Blenheim Palace recently featured in a TV programme on the architecture of brutalism, with broadcaster Jonathan Meades describing it as a “violent statement of power”.

He reminded viewers that French philosopher Voltaire found it “a great heap of stone, without charm or taste” and compared it to concrete Nazi bunkers and 20th-century multi-storey car parks.

Blenheim has five stars on TripAdvisor, so plenty of people disagree. It is particularly splendid when seen from a distance, so I set out on a walk in the footsteps of Sir Winston Churchill, who received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1953 for his numerous published works, especially his six-volume work The Second World War, a bestseller in its day.

He was, of course, born at Blenheim, but during the Second World War he spent more time at the neighbouring estate of Ditchley Park, and it was there that my walk started.

I caught the S3 bus at Gloucester Green and stayed on board while the tourists descended outside the gates of Blenheim. My walk started further north, at the bus stop next to the Kiddington turn, where a quiet lane leads to Ditchley, a Georgian gem on a smaller scale than Woodstock’s great palace.

Churchill had visited in 1937 for a house party held by Ditchley’s owner, Ronald Tree. So in 1940, when he was advised that Chequers, the Prime Minister’s official country residence in Buckinghamshire, might be bombed “when the moon was high”, he invited himself (and members of his war cabinet) to Ditchley for the weekend — and for a further 12 weekends up to September 1942.

Tree fostered Anglo-American relations and invited influential friends for secret meetings.

The early stages of “Lend Lease” were negotiated at Ditchley, allowing Britain to receive aid before the US formally declared war on Germany.

The public right of way turns left shortly before the entrance to the park, and follows a delightful track, much used by cyclists. I first encountered this lane on an earlier visit, walking from Enstone.

As I was admiring the house with a group of friends, a familiar figure walked towards us. It was The Oxford Times’ ‘history man’, Chris Koenig, with his wife Anne, who soon filled us in on the background to Ditchley since the war.

It was inherited by a member of the Wills tobacco family, who has set up a trust to continue its use as a conference centre for international issues.

I suspected that Chris had not walked far, and sure enough we discovered his car nearby, parked discreetly behind one of the avenues of trees that surround the park like a clock-face.

From this lane, walkers can approach the house along the grandest avenue of all, a grassy ride which leads towards the front door. The footpath ends at a T-junction a few hundred metres from the house, which is a magnificent sight, with its symmetrical wings crowned with clock towers.

Tree was an apt name for Ditchley’s wartime owner, since the estate was originally cleared from Wychwood Forest. The prehistoric Grim’s Ditch, from which the estate takes its name, formed the forest’s northern boundary. Iron Age and Roman pottery and coins have been found here, and the Romans certainly cleared woodland, since two villas have been excavated here.

In Tudor times, landowners seeking to enclose the forest wanted its inhabitants weaned off the ‘dependency culture’ encouraged by their common-law rights, and opposition was fierce, including the Oxfordshire uprising of 1596.

Had the conspirators been able to invade Ditchley as planned (instead of being arrested at Enslow Bridge), they might have pillaged the famous Ditchley portrait of Elizabeth I, now in the National Portrait Gallery.

The Tudor queen, pictured two years before the riots, is standing on the globe of the world, with her feet on Oxfordshire.

The current house replaced an earlier Elizabethan one, and — like its grander cousin at Blenheim — is above all a statement of power, designed to create awe in any onlooker. On a clear day, you are supposed to be able to see Blenheim to the south and Heythrop to the north along the vast avenue vistas between these estates — but not from a public footpath, as far as I could tell. I followed paths around the house and jumped up and down, but with no luck.

The rights of way allow you to encircle the park, and to marvel at the way Grim’s Ditch has been incorporated into a ha-ha — an ornamental ditch designed to allow the owners to enjoy uninterrupted views of the countryside without being bothered by real cattle or sheep.

It would be wonderful to walk straight from Ditchley to Blenheim, and on my first visit I tried this.

A line from Ditchley gate in the north to Bladon church tower in the south passes precisely through the centre of Blenheim Palace, but unfortunately the straight lines do not go further north.

I turned down Ditchley’s grand south-facing avenue, which points straight towards the Ditchley Gate of Blenheim. But then the path starts to meander, leading through the woodland of Kingswood Brake, crossing a flooded stream over the damp Kingswood Bottom and then joining the busy B4437 for a traffic-filled mile’s walk to Ditchley Gate.

On my second visit, I tried a new approach, following Grim’s Ditch westwards to join the Salt Way, an ancient track leading from Droitwich to Princes Risborough.

Walking south, just past Newbarn Farm, I finally caught sight of Blenheim’s Column of Victory, peeping mistily through the trees.

Entering, finally, through the Ditchley Gate, there is no mistaking the statue of Winston’s illustrious ancestor, the first Churchill, perched on top of the column. This is the best way to approach Blenheim, with the monument looming ahead, flanked by trees said to represent the battalions of troops lined up for the 1704 Battle of Blenheim.

The first volume of Churchill’s Second World War history, The Gathering Storm, was turned into a TV series. The opening scene, set just before the war, features a chauffeur driving the MP through landscaped parkland.

Winston contemplates the view of the valley below, where he has a vision of his ancestor, the Duke of Marlborough, winning the Battle of Blenheim in 1704.

As the battle turns, the strains of Rule Britannia start, and Winston strides off, determined to lead Britain away from appeasement and towards rearmament.

His version of events is questioned by today’s historians, but there is no doubt that Churchill felt passionately about his illustrious ancestor, and today Blenheim does very well from the connection, with a permanent exhibition pointing out the parallels between him and the 1st Duke of Marlborough.

On the dull day of our walk, the approach to the palace was packed with visitors and their cars, making it difficult to appreciate the grandeur. We sped on, and reached the bus stop just in time to take the S3 home to Oxford.

*Blenheim's exhibition on the First World War, which includes a section on Winston Churchill's early career, runs until April 21. Maps: Explorer 180 and 191. For S3 bus timetable, see stagecoach.com