A repeat experience at the garage this morning – closed, no explanation. The business next door is open though and they suggest perhaps they’ve taken a week off for the start of school holidays. Possibly. Who knows – fixing our issue is looking more like a post departure event. Quite frankly, this suits me just fine – the less time lost faffing around the better.
Instead we’re off to see Knightshayes, yet another National Trust treasure. I zip along in the Yaris for ages before it occurs to me to ask: just how far away is this place? Himself pipes up – an hour and an half. Eek! Three hours driving there and back – a bit of a misstep there. Knightshayes was on our list when things went south though, so we’re regaining lost ground. We persist and I’m so glad we did.
To appreciate Knightshayes one has to understand the story behind its creation. The house was commissioned by Sir John Heathcoat Amory in 1869, appointing the ‘it’ architect of the day, William Burges. Now whilst William was widely recongised in the 19th century for his flamboyant gothic revival style, he was also nothing short of a fully fledged eccentric. Obsessed with the medieval period he dressed in the medieval manner, frequently as a court jester, smoked copious amounts of opium, held church services for his many cats and excommunicated one of them for mousing on a Sunday. I kid you not – you can’t make this stuff up.
It’s fair to say that his taste spilled over into his designs. Richly decorated and ornately finished, every surface either painted with a mural or featuring carvings in wood and stone – he even designed furniture and soft furnishings. But oh so very over the top – picture gothic crashing into medieval with more than a hint of Vegas sprinkled throughout and you’re well on the way.
Either way, it was too much for Sir Amory who took one look and dismissed him in the aristocratic equivalent of the Australian ‘yeah, nah’. Another popular architect, John Dibblee Crace was brought in to finish the house and tone down Burgess’ over the top designs. Even so, the end result was still ‘too much’ and the family spent a great deal of time covering up both architect’s work on completion.
Below is one of the original plans that didn’t make it to fruition – even more over the top than the version we see (picture below the plan)
It wasn’t until Knightshayes came into the Trust’s possession in 1972 that the long process of unpicking the changes commenced, rediscovering the original 19th century work along the way and in some instances, recreating what was lost or damaged. Much of what we see today is thanks to the Trust’s dedication to their task.
Two rooms are restored as wholly Burgess – the entrance foyer, modelled on a medieval great hall complete with viewing platform,
and the master bedroom, with its Burgess designed bed and birdy motif walls.
There’s a fabulously well stocked library. Leave me here please. Bring tea and treats. I promise to keep my hands clean and not make a mess.
Sadly, we can’t see the top floor as the Trust is short on volunteers today. The kitchens and other work areas aren’t open for public viewing either – likely to need more work prior to opening.
Magnificent stables (below) were built in 1871. They now serve as the Trust’s reception, gift shop, nursery and cafe. Yes, they were that big.
We lunch in the cafe before setting off to explore the grounds. Now we’re talking my language – topiary, clipped into animal shapes no less. There’s a fox, a rabbit, dogs – all in action poses. Love!
We see pretty water features with water lilies and the formal gardens that surround the house.
There’s an extensive walled kitchen garden which remained in continuous production until the 1960s. The Trust restored it in 2001, establishing it as a seed hub for many heirloom varieties. My garden envy returns with a vengeance, as it always does in England. Modern life in cities has come at many costs, space being but one of them.
Impressive blooms abound at every turn, much enjoyed by our bumbley friends. The garden supplies the house with regular floral displays, naturally.
There’s so much more to see. If it wasn’t such a long drive home I would’ve loved a woodland walk and a long browse in the second hand bookshop. There’s a rhododendron garden too – I imagine it’s glorious in spring flower.
But home we must – I don’t want to get caught in the hedgerows in the dark. To risky – I couldn’t bear to hit a little creature. And speaking of which, I’ve had my eyes peeled. Not a single wabbit, squiz or hare. I’d even settle for a pole cat. Not. A. Thing. You’ve let me down England.
A massive hay lorry swaying under its weight provides a good 30 minutes of entertainment on the way home, the car behind hot on his heels. There’s no way I’m even thinking of passing that thing.
Knightshayes is a truly unique place, earning its spot in history but hours and even days later, I’m still thinking about that excommunicated cat. Meow.
Miss Baci Travels 