Tag: castle ward

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Clayton’s Kitchen Restaurant + Georgian Bath Somerset

From The Circus to the Kitchen

There are few more glorious sights in southwest England that the approach by train to Bath. As the railway line gently curves round, the golden hue of Bath stone (incidentally Castle Ward in County Down is an example of the material being used in west Britain) against the sloping verdancy is breathtaking. On disembarked closer inspection, the city reveals itself through a gradual unpeeling of layers of beauty and intrigue. As Cyclops would say, there’s more to Bath than meets the eye.

Take the alleyway running off Terrace Walk between The Huntsman pub and Bridgwater House. It frames the three bay frontis of the 1720s home of quarry owner Radulphus Allen. Designed by another oligarch of Georgian Bath, John Wood the Elder, it’s a pristine example of the decorated Palladian style. Ralph Allen’s house is now occupied by the David Brain Partnership, aptly an architectural practice specialising in conservation. Another thrill of the alleyway is the rear elevation of Sally Lunn’s Eating House lit by early 18th century sash windows with heavy glazing bars.

John Wood the Elder’s own home on Queen Square is a showcase, especially the staircase hall with its peopled plasterwork. St Cecilia, Patron Saint of Music, silently serenades visitors on the ascent and descent. The secondary staircase is directly behind the main staircase hall. Newel posts dropping below the stair and three balusters per tread are typical of the era. Full entablature cornices finish off raised and fielded panelling in all the principal rooms. Despite dying aged 50, the architect has left an indelible mark on the cityscape.

The Palladian precision of the formal south elevation coupled with the boutique shop lined inner sanctum of Pulteney Bridge arching over the River Avon is a familiar tourist sight. Its north elevation has a charm derived from irregular jettied projections – a picturesque jumble that would tempt Canaletto to get out his paintbrushes. Pulteney Bridge was designed by Robert Adam and completed in 1774.

John Strachan is lesser known than the Woods or the Adams. His Beauford Square, erected in 1727 to 1736, is more baroque than Palladian. It was developed by John Hobbs, a Bristol sailmaker and timber merchant. Distinctive red pantile roofs contrast in colour and texture with the Bath stone walls. Several of the townhouses facing the central green were later enlarged from two and a half to three storeys.

Water is everywhere in Bath. The dual aspect late 18th century Pump Room designed by Thomas Baldwin and finished by John Palner is quite the spot for afternoon liquid refreshment. Its north facing windows look out towards the Perpendicular Gothic Bath Abbey; its south, down a storey to the Roman Baths. St Cecilia would approve: a pianist and two violinists play sonatas as guests in the Pump Room polish off sparkling water from the Mendip Hills.

Street names are always fascinating in historic cities. What are the origins of Gay Street, Gracious Court, Milk Street, Quiet Street, Saw Close, Swallow Street, Trim Street? There is no Queer Street in Bath: this place is affluent. The Circus is self explanatory: three identical curved segments of 11 terraced houses each built between 1754 and 1769 to the design of John Wood the Elder and completed by his son John Wood the Younger. Why use one order when you can employ three. The columnar front and side elevations are thrust skyward by lavish paired columns – Roman Doric (entrance floor); Ionic (drawing room floor); and Corinthian (nursery floor).

A frieze supporting the acorn dotted cornice features lyres and Irish harps. The influence of Inigo Jones’ Banqueting House of Whitehall Palace London dating from 1638 is apparent in the design. The Woods’ ability to synthesise precedent and recompose it elevated their work above all peers. Cills have been lifted back up to their original position: the Victorians liked to enlarge windows by lowering them by a row of panes. Originally the urban space enclosed by The Circus was paved with setts. A circular green filled with trees dates from the Picturesque period of the late 18th century.

Beau Nash is an antiques shop on Brock Street which links The Circus to The Royal Crescent. The houses on the opposite side of the street have porches designed to accommodate sedan chairs. Suitably for a shop named after a bon viveur, dealers Ronald Pringle and Cynthia Wihardja have compiled a restaurant guide to Bath. Their verdict on Clayton’s Kitchen is, “The best value for money in Bath. Rob is a Michelin star Chef who set up his own restaurant. Lovely presentation and generous portions. Superb service. We love this place.”

Ever since Chef Patron Robert Clayton opened his eponymous restaurant high above George Street in 2012, it has become a fixture of fine dining in Bath. The 54 year old lives in the city with his wife Sara, daughters Imogen and Liberty, and Weimaraner Myrtle. He was one of the youngest chefs ever to win a Michelin star while aged 25 he headed up the kitchen of Huntsrete House Hotel just outside Bath. There are two adjoining dining rooms, simply decorated with natural materials. Duck egg blue reigns supreme. Seating spills out to the side onto Miles’s Buildings, a laneway leading up to the rear of the southeast segment of The Circus. Dishes radiate uncomplicated perfection drawing on Mediterranean and current French cuisine for inspiration.

Julia Kent wrote in House and Garden magazine, “Having escaped the worst excesses of modern planners’ dreams for redevelopment, Bath remains largely and evocatively a Georgian city. True, some latter day horrors have been allowed to mar the once harmonious skyline but, even so, you can still wander round the city and absorb the spirit and architectural beauty of the 18th century. Perhaps because Bath has a comparatively large local population of discerning diners out, the city boasts numerous good restaurants, not geared solely to tourism, some of which are of very high standing indeed.” That was May 1987. Not much has changed in a good way.

Bath was built to be a resort of pleasure. The Romans got it. The Georgians got it. The Caroleans are getting it.

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Grey Skies + Grey Abbey House + Grey Abbey Greyabbey Down

Not Grey Gardens

Under a slate grey sky through the foliage can be glimpsed one of the great houses of County Down, the central ground floor room of its garden front lit by Gothick arched windows set in a chamfered bay. The entrance front is completely neoclassical so not quite the extreme contrasting elevations of Castle Ward on the opposite shore of Strangford Lough. A charming idiosyncrasy, nonetheless.

The entrance front is again not without its quirks, being six bays wide (odd numbers are more common in neoclassical language) and the main access into the house being through one of the single storey flanking wings. Two storey wings between the three storey main block and aforementioned single storey wings form an attractive wedding cake tiered silhouette. The central two windows of the ground floor have been lowered by a pane like The Argory in County Armagh. Nothing has changed since the entrance front was photographed 30 years ago. The house’s dove grey walls are timeless.

The Grey Abbey Estate has belonged to the Montgomery family since 1607. Diarist James Boswell visited it in 1769 and recorded “the excellent house of Mr Montgomery’s own planning”. Who needs an architect when you’re a well educated and creative gentleman with oodles of grey matter? The Gothick connection between the two houses isn’t coincidental: the reception room windows on the garden front were added in 1773 when Hugh Montgomery married Emilia Ward whose father had built Castle Ward.

Grey Abbey House has been restored and maintained by Bill and Daphne Montgomery, reviving its charm following occupation after World War II by the Electricity Board. Their youngest daughter is the acclaimed actress Flora Montgomery. In 2014, there was lots of excitement locally when Flora married Danish banker turned restaurateur Soren Jessen in Grey Abbey. Guests included the actor Orlando Bloom as well as Prince Frederik and Princess Mary, now King and Queen of Denmark.

The bride was surrounded by stone plaques dedicated to previous generations of her family. One reads: “In memory of Arabella Catherine wife of Colonel Francis Octavius Montgomery daughter of Captain Kean Osborn 5th Dragoon Guards and the Honourable Theodosia Ward his wife. Born at High Wycombe Bucks 7 May 1808. Died at Nice 18 March 1879 and is buried in the Caucade cemetery. This tablet is dedicated to her by her husband AD 1879.” Another reads: “Hugh Montgomery Clerk in Holy Orders born 24 June 1754 died 30 March 1815. The Honourable Georgina Charlotte Emilia Hannah his wife. Youngest daughter of Bernard 1st Viscount Bangor born 6 July 1762 died 16 November 1843. Both lie buried in this abbey. This tablet is dedicated to their memory by their son Colonel Francis Octavius Montgomery AD 1879.”

The ruins of the Cistercian Priory of Grey Abbey, founded in 1193, are an historic tourist attraction. Next door, Grey Abbey House and garden are open for group tours and filming. Flora isn’t the only television star: the house has featured in The Frankenstein Chronicles headlining Sean Bean on ITV Encore and Channel 5’s Agatha and the Truth of Murder about the leading crime novelist. The neoclassical North Gatelodge has been sensitively rebuilt to the design of Belfast architects Consarc. Planning permission has been granted to restore and extend the Gothick West Gatelodge, also to the design of Consarc, converting it into a dower house. Greyabbey village is especially picturesque and is good for antiques and food. The Wildfowler Inn is an essential pitstop for scampi and a Grey Goose cocktail when touring the Strangford Lough area.

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Hartwell House + Garden Aylesbury Buckinghamshire

Inside the Vale in Stone with Bishopstone and Hartwell Parish

National Trust country house tours are all jolly good but nothing beats the fun of actually lounging, dining, partying and hopping into bed in an historic property. Le grand expérience. We once lunched at Florence Court in County Fermanagh to celebrate the 7th Earl and Countess of Enniskillen returning some rather grand trinkets to their former home but that was a one off despite dining out on it ever since. In a marriage made in heaven, or at least a pairing in Britain at its finest, the dream comes true in the triumphant triumvirate of Bodysgallen Hall, Llandudno; Middlethorpe Hall, York; and Hartwell House in the Vale of Aylesbury. National Trust houses where the four posters are for using. Well if Hartwell was good enough for Louis XVIII (he rented it for five years from 1809) it’ll suit us Francophiles thank you very much. Although His Majesty probably didn’t have to catch the train from London Marylebone. And so, we wave goodbye to the golden tinged terraces of NW1 on a blisteringly hot morn.

We’re tasked with capturing the spirit of the place, its current glory, its essence no less. The present is not a foreign country; they do things better here and now. Although Paris France is our next stop. As Gertrude Stein amusingly muses in Paris France, “You do not mention the relation of French men to French men of French men to French women of French women to French women to French children of French men to French children of French children to French children.” It’s worth mentioning the Frenchman who would become exiled sovereign as his plump features fill a bust and a statue and a painting at Hartwell. The Frenchman who looks down on the dining table of Apsley House on Piccadilly, London, in a portrait by François Pascal Simon, Baron Gérard. “But all art is erotic,” prescribes Adolf Loos in his 1908 lecture Ornament and Crime. Erm, not so sure, but we really do agree with his statement “Luxury is a very necessary thing.” And “An English club armchair is an absolutely perfect thing.” His words “Fulfilment awaits us” have a prophetic ring to them. Unerotic art, luxury and English club armchairs await us.

It’s also worth mentioning a certain French woman. A French woman who was Queen of France for 20 minutes. Marie-Thérèse Charlotte Duchess of Angoulême was the eldest daughter of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. The Dauphine joined her uncle to hold court at Hartwell. Her much maligned and misrepresented mother tried to set her daughter on the straight and narrow. On New Year’s Day 1784 the Queen, forgetting cake and remembering the poor, told Marie-Thérèse Charlotte, “The winter is very hard. There is a crowd of unhappy people who have no bread to eat, no clothes to wear, no wood to make a fire. I have given them all my money. I have none left to buy you presents, so there will be none this year.”

First impressions of Hartwell are grand, very grand. And very Jacobean. A feast of late 17th century transomed and mullioned oriels greets us as we swoop down the driveway round the turning circle with its life size statue of Frederick Prince of Wales on horseback and screech the breaks outside the entrance archway. But peeping past the very manicured bush (straight out of a David Inshaw painting) round to the garden front, there’s a perpendicular juxtaposition that would give County Down’s Castle Ward a run for its money. It’s Arcadian Palladian! The wealthy Hampden family built the original house before selling it to the even wealthier Lee family a couple of centuries later. In 1938 the house and 730 hectare estate was bought by conservationist Ernest Cook, grandson of the Victorian pioneer of package holidays Thomas Cook. Not that there’s anything package about bespoke Hartwell House. Ernest Cook saved the ensemble from certain ruin. Historic Hotels owner Richard Broyd would later acquire the leasehold which would in turn would be assigned to the National Trust in 2008 while allowing the house to still be run as a hotel. Lasting impressions of Hartwell are grand, very grand.

The dining room with its pendentive domes and matching Greek key cornice and carpet is more Soaneian than Pitzhanger Manor. The walls are painted lemon sorbet colour and the ceiling lemon ice cream. Contrary to appearances the dining room is 1980s not 1780s. It’s the creation of the architect Eric Throssell who converted Hartwell House from a finishing school to a hotel. A very clever creation at that. The architect amalgamated a closet, secretary’s room, south portico hallway and study to form a coherent space. The closet was reshaped to form an apse balancing that of the former study. French doors are wide open to the terrace. Dinner is served. The menu is elegantly labelled “Hartwell Bill of Fare”. Sourdough and fried tomato bread are followed by a starter of pan seared scallops, apple ketchup, compressed apple and oat crisp. The main course is pan fried turbot, leek spaghetti, sun blush tomatoes, British new potatoes and mussel cream sauce. Pudding is raspberry and elderflower tart, elderflower and mint sorbet. Taste good dining in a good taste dining room. Jacqueline Duncan, Founder of Inchbald School of Design, always reminds us, “I’m interested in taste.” A gentle breeze rustles through the dining room. Such peace and tranquillity. Yet under the fading light outside, tragedy is marked on the lawn. A tiny gravestone reads: “In loving memory of Charmian Patricia baby daughter of Captain and Mrs Conyers Lang died March 30 1924.” Beyond this gravestone, a walled cemetery abuts the estate.

Close to the cemetery a rusted blue sign on the perimeter brick wall reads, “Hartwell, The Church of the Assumption of The Blessed Virgin Mary. The present church (replacing a medieval structure) and modelled on the Chapter House at York Minister, was erected by Henry Keene between 1754 and 1756 for Sir William Lee of Hartwell House. It was an early example of Gothic Revival consisting of an octagon with symmetrical towers at the east and west ends. The interior was remarkable for the beauty of its fan tracery vaulting and the lozenged black and white marble pavement. Photographs taken before the church fell into ruin are in the National Monuments Record collection. Shortly after the 1939 to 1945 war the lead was stolen from the roof. This quickly led to the collapse of the vaulting and, after years of disuse, the remains of the building were declared redundant in 1973 and came into the care of the Redundant Churches Fund in July 1975. The elegance of the building’s design was not matched by the soundness of the construction and in order to preserve what was left, the Fund has carried out extensive works over many years under the direction of Mr Roiser of Cheltenham. May 1982.”

The interior of Hartwell House swaggers and sways between styles and centuries, from the baroque great hall and Henry Keene’s rococo morning room to the Georgian drawing room and library and Jacobean staircase hall. The newels and posts of the staircase are formed of historic carved figures. We return to the dining room a few hours later just as dawn is breaking. There may be no E in Hart but there’s eggs-to-see for breakfast. Sunny side up thank you on the sphinx guarded terrace. Poached eggs and crushed avocado on sourdough toast. It’s oh so quiet. Such peace and tranquillity. A sign in the staff courtyard next to the hotel reads “Beware People”. Thankfully the house and estate are so large there are few bodies about except for the discreet staff.

In 1728 James Gibbs published his bestseller A Book of Architecture Containing Designs of Buildings and Ornaments. “What heaps of stone, and even marble,” he complains, “are daily seen in monuments, chimneys, and other ornamental pieces of architecture, without the least symmetry or order?” The architect and author sets out to remedy this dire situation. “In order to prevent the abuses and absurdities hinted at, I have taken the utmost that these designs should be done in the best taste I could form upon the instructions of the greatest masters in Italy, as well as my own observations upon the ancient buildings there, during many years application onto these studies; for a cursory view of those august remains can no more qualify the spectator, or admirer, than the air of the country can inspire him with the knowledge of architecture.”

The chimneypiece in the great hall looks like it could be taken from the central image of Plate 91 except for a carved plaque replacing the overmantel mirror in the drawing. The mélange of urns and finials over the triumphal Rusticated Arch could come from Plates 146 and 147. And the Gibbs Pavilion looks like Plate 77 minus a dome. The Illustrated Atlas of the World’s Great Buildings by Philip Bagenal and Jonathan Meades, 1990, confirms James Gibbs’ status, “English Georgian was evolved from the designs of the Italian architect Palladio by Sir Christopher Wren, Sir John Vanbrugh, Nicholas Hawksmoor and James Gibbs.”

The Ionic Temple, an eyecatcher viewed from the dining room, is one of several James Gibbs designed parkland features. The rubblestone and ashlar stable block and attached coach house, rebranded Hartwell Court, incorporates parts of a Gibbsian menagerie. Hartwell Court now houses a swimming pool and 16 guest bedrooms in addition to the 32 bedrooms in the main house. It overlooks a private garden guarded by statues of Juno and Zeus. A statue of Hercules remains half hidden in the woodland beyond the church. The Rusticated Arch tunnels under the public road into another walled area known as Hothouse Piece which includes the kitchen garden, orchard and tennis court. A brick plinth marks the location of the Victorian glasshouses.

Restored beyond their former glory under Sir Geoffrey Jellicoe’s landscape renewal scheme in 1979, the mid to late 18th century gardens, offer up a smorgasbord of visual and historic and horticultural and architectural pleasures, some hidden, some unhidden. The prominently placed statue of Frederick Prince of Wales was rescued from obscurity in a shrubbery. In an early case of reclamation, the two narrow informal lakes lie on either side of the middle span of James Paine’s old Kew Bridge in London of 1782, dismantled in 1898 and auctioned in lots.

In The Age of Bronze, 1822, Lord Byron writes, “Why wouldst thou leave Hartwell’s green abode?” Why, indeed, for it’s both peaceful and fun. Hartwell House is the type of place where anything can happen. And it does. The bellboy hands us a poem printed on hotel headed paper titled The Long Driveway to Hartwell. Bonkers has a new. We nod at the line “seize every moment” and chortle at “chaise longue fizz is swell” and when it comes to “it’s a short life on our Lord’s planet” we pray “thank goodness a decent chunk of it was spent at Hartwell House”.

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Architecture Country Houses People

Lady Colin Campbell + Castle Goring West Sussex

You Might As Well Live

“Yawnsville, dahling, yawnsville!” Known – among many things – for her catchphrases, Lady Colin Campbell is never ever dull. And she doesn’t tolerate dullness in others. Certainly not in her castle in Sussex, at any rate. “The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity,” Dorothy Parker once said. Lady C would give Mrs P a run for her money in the quips department. “Oh do put that on the internet!” winks Her Ladyship. Not an early riser, at least not today, she appears makeup free, her high cheekbones unadorned. Traces of confetti on the driveway suggest it’s been a busy weekend.

“I’m me whatever – I’m not playing for the gallery. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and, as you can see, I’m not dead yet!” Lady C gleefully describes her various fundraising activities as “whoring for Goring”. A stint on one celebrity TV programme famously helped pay for the castle’s dome preservation. “My friend Carla, not being English, thinks outside the box and suggested covering the dome with a layer of cling film and carpet protector.” Very Parkeresque: “Take care of the luxuries and the necessities will take care of themselves.” Although when confronted with a 10 metre python in one episode she did exclaim, “I’m not prepared to jeopardise my life for the entertainment industry!”

“Goring Castle was built by the Shelley family for the poet Shelley,” she explains. “It was sold by his wife Mary who, you know, wrote Frankenstein. I saw the potential immediately and I thought it would be possible if I got my Jamaican workers – which I did. I knew what they were capable of – I am Jamaican!” Percy Bysshe Shelley drowned in Italy aged 29. The building is a less compact English version of Northern Ireland’s Castle Ward. Dracu Gothic to the north; Greco Palladian to the south. Either the architect John Biagio-Rebecca or the client had adventurously diverse taste. Or maybe bipolar. “It self evidently hedges its bets with no attempt at unity!” remarks Lady C. As Dotty observed, “Creativity is a wild mind and a disciplined eye.”

“Let’s whizz round the outside,” enthuses the châtelaine. “The gothic front looks more like the original Arundel Castle than Arundel Castle itself. The horseshoe staircase on the classical front was bought by the former owners, the Somersets, on a trip to Italy. It cost £30,000. That’s £8 million today. Beyond belief! They could’ve just done it up much cheaper! Above the stairs is the beautiful Shelley coat of arms made of Coade stone.”

Alas, Dorothy Parker’s aphorism resonated with the found state of the castle: “The only dependable law of life – everything is always worse than you thought it was going to be.” Nothing that a few million quid wouldn’t fix, though. “I bought the castle three and a half years ago and after the first year moved in. Mid restoration! The east wing collapsed into the wall. I took down the outside bread oven. Hideous beyond belief! There have been times when I wished I could stop,” Lady C recalls, “and there have been times when there has been too much for me to do. It has been frenzied at times – there are neverending demands, neverending things to do, and lots of problems. But I have always enjoyed it.” She benefits from Dotty’s “keen eye and magnetic memory”.

“It’s worth the trouble. It’s a magnificent building. It’s absolutely beautiful. It’s laden with history.”

The castle with its obligatory west wing is a sprawling 1,450 square metres. That’s the size of 16 three bedroom houses. An elegant sitting room framed by Doric columns opens onto the terrace under the external staircase. Above, three interconnecting staterooms span the length of the piano mobile. “Its architect understood light and the light here is just fantastic,” Lady C observes. On cue, late morning sunlight gilds the curve of the oval staircase hall. A family staircase leads up to top floor private apartments for Lady C and her two sons. Hopefully there’s plenty of storage for Her Ladyship’s five tiaras and couture wardrobe. She affirms, “Just because I happen to have come from a privileged background doesn’t mean I’m not human, even though many people may think I’m not!”

Two springer spaniels, Totty and Nicky, follow their owner around the place. “It’s very different when you’ve inherited furniture. Interior designers want to cover everything with the same fabric. So American. I went to school in New York but I’m not a New Yorker! We have a licence for people to get married here. Very pretty, but of course, the weather…” Her mobile rings. Instead of Dorothy Parker’s “What fresh hell is this?” she answers, “Hi honee. Hi, where are you? We’ll get there, my son!” Dima is busy on a computer on the top floor. That’s several storeys and hallways and lobbies and corridors away.

Lady C reflects: “Well I would say that there are times in life when you realise that if you put in the graft you get the reward. Effort requires effort.” It’s the end of Lady Colin Campbell’s bold and brilliant, wild and whacky, fast and furious tour. “Appreciation, my dear,” her eyebrows arching, “is a wonderful thing.” What would Dotty do? “Tomorrow’s gone – we’ll have tonight!” And there’s more from the original New Yorker, “Oh, life is a glorious cycle | A medley of extemporanea.” We step out of the recessed gothic porch into the rest of our lives.