Tag: estate

Renishaw Hall and Gardens

Renishaw Hall and Gardens

Every Friday since June 2017 I have had the honour of doing work experience at a garden design firm based at Renishaw Hall and Gardens in Derbyshire. This fine house stands just a short drive from the hustle and bustle of housing estates and main […]

Hardwick

Hardwick

Hardwick Hall was one of those places I’d heard others talk about often, but had never properly visited. It’s relatively close to where I grew up – just under an hour’s drive – and to call its leading lady of history “interesting” would be a […]

A Simple Check-in

A Simple Check-in

It’s been a while since I wrote up a simple check-in post. For you wonderful people wondering what we’ve been up to of late, let me recap for you. Some of it you’ve had an insight into already, some will be new. It all begins back in late September…

Little Moreton Hall

Saturday 23 September

I’d driven over to Cheshire for the weekend and we had so much to choose from. I had had it in mind to go back to Biddulph Grange to see the renowned dahlia display since my first visit back in April. The direction was set.

Our route took us via Congleton – speaking of which, has the big random ship by the river been taken away? We couldn’t see it, but that could have been down to the leaves on the trees. From Congleton, with National Trust membership in hand, we decided to stop off at Little Moreton Hall. I wasn’t expecting much, I’m now ashamed to admit. Any expectations would have been surpassed by this fascinating structure.

Little Moreton Hall fire arms

We’d only just exited the entrance building when a fantastic boom shook ground and air alike. Cows rushed over the field alongside us, surely not knowing where to run to. This was quickly followed up by a small girl, hands over her ears, dashing full pelt round the corner, screaming in terror. Is it so very wrong that I found humour in this? Schadenfreude, I believe the term is.

Matt and I pressed on, and discovered the origin of the explosion: a medieval ballistics display involving plenty of gunpowder and more than one shot of the cannon. Each item was being described by reenactors dressed in period costumes. The main shooter quite rightly sported some Tudor ear protection.

Firearms display Little Moreton Hall

The display was part of a medieval mop fair, where workers were hired and prices set, following the labour shortages from the Black Death. You could find tents displaying various crafts and also an armoury tent. Matt gravitated towards this one, particularly enjoying the shield and sword. In fact, he enjoyed the sword a tad too much (cue immature reaction from Matthew…)

Arms Little Moreton Hall Matt sword shield Little Moreton Hall Matt sword shield Little Moreton Hall

There was to be a further demonstration on “fire power” later in the afternoon, with other talks and presentations scheduled between. We missed these, however with good reason: it was time to focus on the house.

Little Moreton Hall mop fair Matt Little Moreton Hall

We crossed into its courtyard just two or three minutes before a guided tour was planned. Our brief wait was not wasted. You have to marvel at the craftsmanship in the building. What’s more, you have to wonder at how it even still stands with the wonkiness of it all. In the middle ages, before brick became widespread and stone more common, wooden houses were made of green timber. It was not aged, nor was it treated. As it matured in its resting place, it warped. Additional to this is the lack of proper foundations, so the earth has sunk beneath the edifice. Stone slabs pave the ground floors inside, but these were a Victorian alteration.

Little Moreton Hall courtyard Little Moreton Hall bay windows Little Moreton Hall

Just check out the long gallery here, originally created for indoor sports and walking in cold winter months:

Little Moreton Hall long gallery

Julie was our tour guide, and we relished it. She was a font of knowledge and kept the momentum up the whole way. She took slightly longer than the standard tour time, but it was worth it. We were told about the construction of the place, key features were pointed out, and we learnt the fortunes (and misfortunes) of previous occupants.

Interior Little Moreton HallLittle Moreton Hall chapel Little Moreton Hall Long Gallery fireplace Little Moreton Hall ceiling

We finished the tour with rumbling tummies, so Matt and I skipped the small Tudor gardens and head off to Biddulph Grange where we ate, drank and revelled in the worldwide scope of its 19th Century grounds.

 

Sunday 24 September

What a non-stop weekend we ended up having. It was like a whirlwind tour of National Trust properties. From Little Moreton Hall and Biddulph Grange one day, to Quarry Bank Mill and Speke Hall the next.

This was my second visit to Quarry Bank Mill this year as well. The idea was to see inside the mill itself. We didn’t have the time, unfortunately. We took in the smaller yet shapely gardens. In spring, the garden had surprised me with just how much colour was packed in its cliffside borders. In autumn, the colours were no less lovely. It has a wilder, damp sense to it by the riverside, which neighbours more Victorian-style annual bedding in the lawns. Scrabbling up the cliff paths, you pass more ferns, geraniums and statuesque trees. How amazing is this beech, clinging to the rocks?

Quarry Bank Mill Quarry Bank Mill Riverside Quarry Bank Mill Beech tree Quarry Bank Mill

Heading over the partially walled veg garden, you pass abundant beds, dotted with lilac iris, purple nepeta, swishy panicum, popping aster and blistering orange crocosmia. Clumps of towering yellow helianthus conflicted with the whole, and I can’t say I particularly appreciated their inclusion other than for height variation.

Quarry Bank Mill pond Quarry Bank Mill flowers Quarry Bank Mill aster verbena Quarry Bank Mill veg garden Quarry Bank Mill glasshouses

I did enjoy the greenhouse though, packed with pelargoniums and succulents.

Quarry Bank Mill greenhouse

Speke Hall

We left behind the mill and hurried over to Liverpool to pick up our friend Suzanne. Bless her, she was slightly housebound with a wrist injury – how crazily easy it is to break bones sometimes – and we were more than pleased to be able to give her some escape.

Speke Hall was on the agenda. It’s been on my radar for a while. I always used to see the signs when my parents drove me to and from Liverpool airport, during my year abroad. Additionally, I have friends who visit the hall regularly, for its antiques and proximity to planes. I seem to always attract “AV geeks”.

How unusual – food and drink was the first thing on the menu upon arrival! I love National Trust eateries. They’re so unfussy but satisfying.

The Tudor hall – yes, another late medieval property! – was kept from me for a while. Matt and Suzanne led me through the woodlands on the edge of the house initially. The path takes you on the trail of a giant, past his shoes, buttons and house, with poems along the way. All good fun for kids, little and big alike.

Speke Hall woodland Speke Hall giants shoes Kevin

Rounding a bend, Speke Hall itself emerged from the trees, rising ever more from behind a yew hedge. I was glad to see some rich red planting close to its walls, whether acer or sedum, contrasting nicely with variegated hostas and white blooms. The property also boasted a frothy and flowering rose garden, understated but effective at this time in the year.

Speke Hall Speke Hall Speke Hall roses

Here was a property combining Cheshire timber with brickwork. We found out this weekend that these homes wouldn’t have originally been white and black. They would have been left a combination of green-grey oak and creamy daub between.

We also learnt the origin of the term eavesdropper. A hole was left in the eaves above the main entrance. A servant would hide up here when individuals arrived at the door. The aim was to learn the visitors’ purpose; be they friend or foe?

The interior of the hall, to say it had remained a home for generations, retained its overwhelmingly medieval feel. Clad in dark wood, each room was dark. There were some wonderful features; in particular I took a liking to this octagonal table, fitting perfectly into the bay window. Shame the afternoon tea wasn’t edible!

Speke Hall octagonal table

On our way back to the car we passed a well-stocked little veg garden – the second of the day. However, the absolute highlight of the day had to be having a go at archery before we entered the hall. You paid £1 each (or was it £2? I forget) for the firing of six arrows. A local society expert instructed you and away you went. I did pretty well I think. Very modest of me… I’ve always fancied doing archery, and now I’m even more curious about seeking out a club some day. Robin Hood, eat your heart out ha!

Kevin archery Speke Hall

 

Thursday 05 October

We jump ahead to October, and I had half a day off. Matt was over so we went for a wander up from Damflask to Ughill and back down again. The sun was shining which made it all the more enjoyable. We passed the gates to Ughill Hall, site of an infamous murder in the late 1980s. Here a solicitor shockingly murdered his partner and her infant daughter. On a sunlit afternoon such as this, you’d never believe it.

Damflask Ughill brook pines Ughill brook pines sunlight Ughill Brook Ughill fork in the road Ughill Hall gates Ughill copse Damflask path

Sunday 08 October

Sunday just gone Matt and I drove out to Hardwick Hall – “more glass than wall”, as Matthew likes to remind me. In fact, I’d counter that by saying “more fabric than wall”. I’d never been inside before, and I’m so glad we did this time. But, you know what, more about Hardwick in a future post…

Hardwick Hall

Stay tuned so you don’t lose me again! Why not subscribe by email or follow me on Twitter?

Villa Reale di Marlia

Villa Reale di Marlia

If you’ve read my post Olives and vines you’ll recall the point before the wedding where four of us visited La Villa Reale di Marlia. It was fortuitous – the villa stands mere minutes from the vineyard and olive groves where we were staying. I […]

Not enough hours in the day

Not enough hours in the day

How can we add more hours to the day? A question I keep posing to myself regularly at the moment – the answer, of course, impossible. The reason for this pondering: I’ve found a new lease on life and there’s just so much out there […]

An eternal outlook

An eternal outlook

How often do you find yourself retracing steps from an earlier part of your life, sometimes without even realising it?

Last weekend I met Matt out in Tideswell where we’d had our very first date. This Saturday I ended up taking Troy for a walk along the same route I’d taken just around the same time as Matt and I had that first date. I clearly recall sending him photos of me and the spaniel walking along the blizzard-blitzed roads and over the snow-blanketed fields, which this time were soaked in sunlight and cloaked in corn.

Saturday – walking from Worrall

This is one of my favourite wanderings to take from home, and much of it is uncongested by other walkers or cyclists.

Beginning in the heart of Worrall, head downhill and round the Butcher’s Corner S-bend as if going to the top end of Oughtibridge. Behind the farm on the bend you have a left hand lane – go up it and it soon becomes a mud/stony path – Boggard Lane. It’s home to one of my favourite tree-vaulted archways. After this you also glimpse Onesacre on the opposite side of the valley (my dad’s grandmother was one of the last to attend its small schoolhouse).


From the far end of Boggard, head up the steep incline of Burnt Hill and carry on until the right hand turn onto Onesmoor Bottom, a windy and gradually increasing rise which offers views back towards Oughtibridge, Worrall and Sheffield city from its heights. You can also look across to the north-east and see one of my other local walks through Greno Woods (more about that in future).

Take a footpath over the fields to your left at the top of the hill (there is an opposite path which descends to Oughtibridge). Crossing through these fields – this summer filled with ripening golden wheat and rustling bronze rape stalks – you’ll pass around the right of the convent and its grounds. Yet another example of beautiful stone walling, albeit more imposing than the usual field dividers!

Passing alongside the convent, you’ll reach a metal gate out onto Kirk Edge Road. Turning right there would lead you on into Bradfield and beyond, but I turned left (lots of lefts, like not ending up lost in a labyrinth). Descend down the straight road over Worrall Moor until reaching the village itself. Troy and I finished off by walking along Top Road and down Towngate towards the post office and Blue Ball, and returning home from there for a well-earned coffee and glass of water. So much for the poor weather!

Sunday – Renishaw Hall specialist plant fair

Such a shame the sunny weather didn’t completely continue through into Sunday; a lot more heavy clouds floating around, and the constant threat of rain – which fortunately never came.

I spent the morning drawing up some plans for my sister’s partial garden re-design, before then dividing some offsets (or “pups”) from the Aloe Vera which Matt bought me earlier in the year. Easy peasy – I now have nine Aloe Vera’s. I don’t expect them all to survive, that said, due to insufficient root systems on the smaller ones as well as a little rot on a couple. Nevertheless, more than one is progress from just the one! I simply tipped the plant from the pot, teased the pups away from the centre (sometimes using my disinfected cuttings knife to slice if necessary), and potted on into gritty compost-filled containers. Simple!

Lunchtime arrived and drove across to Renishaw Hall via my friend Fiona’s house to collect her for an afternoon in the fabulous gardens and mooching round the specialist plant fair. We even went thrifty, taking our own lunches and drinks. More money free for the plants on sale in my case!

I find the gardens at Renishaw utterly beautiful, even if it isn’t the most expansive estate. The major downside from my point-of-view is the woodland walk. It’s not its size, so much as its lack of excitement. There’s very little going on between the trunks or along the ground. Perhaps I just need to make sure I visit in spring; maybe there are bulbs of which I’m unaware.

There’s also a neoclassical statue of a lady attempting to coyly cover her modesty, glancing anxiously to her left. This is the only statue I’ve ever felt sorry and sad for. The reason? She doesn’t have a decent view to gaze at for her eternity in stone. Fiona and I pondered on how her outlook may have appeared when first realised. A clear hillside overlooking rolling hills and scattered thickets?

Renishaw Hall is paradise for its own yew enclaves of immaculate lawns, abundantly planted herbaceous borders and rows of roses, lilies and, in spring, tulips. It even boasts a laburnum arch for earlier in the year.


The plant fair was a little disappointing – I saw very little that took my fancy. Then again, there’s no accounting for taste, and what skips my notice might well stoke someone else’s passion. Do be warned however, that there is a charge of £3 just for adults to enter the separated fair area, or an additional 50p on your £6 adult entry to the gardens if you combine the two activities as we did. We actually got away without paying – I think the ticket people had tootled off home by that time in the afternoon (close to its closing at 16:30; it began at 10:30).

I was beginning to feel that sadness at the prospect of leaving empty handed – like I need more plants! – and then I spotted four Echinacea “White Swan”, and purchased three. Now, where to squeeze them in… I was also pleased to arrive back at my mum and dad’s to see one of the Gladiolus murielae buds has opened up.

And so Sunday night has arrived, I’m typing this up, and just noticing the rain has finally arrived through the window. Good timing.

Have a great week ahead, and don’t forget, you can follow me on social media and subscribe below!