Inflamed passions: organised violence against UK country houses (part 1/3) – Priestley Riots 1791

In the fresh night air, they made their way across moorland and parkland towards a number of darkened country houses, their fierce determination matched only by their inexperience as ‘terrorists’. The flames from their arson attacks engulfing the country houses of their political opponents signalled a calculated escalation; attacks on property to further their cause.

Frustration is often at the root of violence and, without a release valve, the impulse to retaliate escalates. Property is inherently symbolic and can simultaneously embody beauty, power, wealth, status, but also hierarchy, division, oppression and domination.

This article looks specifically at instances where country houses suffered destruction as an outcome of organised violence. The targeting of country houses in the UK in peacetime in this way is rare but such bursts of architectural iconoclasm are not unknown and span centuries of anger. This was intended to be a short article, but it turns out that it will now be published in three parts as there’s a bit more than I thought. Each part will focus (mostly) on one violent campaign: one driven by religious differences, one political anger, and one democratic inequality.

For context though, let’s start with the two obvious campaigns which resulted in the destruction of country houses; the English Civil War and the Irish War of Independence.


English Civil War (1642-1651)

War has often led to tragic wholesale destruction. However, it’s worth noting that during the English Civil War, although it is estimated that between 150-200 country houses were destroyed (and many others were damaged), the destruction was broadly linked to military considerations such as the actual or potential use as a barracks or defensive structure, rather than wanton vandalism.

When the royalist Sir William Campion identified that Chilton House, Buckinghamshire might be used as a parliamentary garrison, he wrote ‘my fancy this morning did much envite mee to set fyre to the house’. Instead, Sir William was ordered to pull down the outer walls and remove the doors, leaving it intact but uninhabitable (c.f Besselsleigh, Oxfordshire). However, when, in 1645, the royalists withdrew from Campden House, Gloucestershire, they burnt it down to prevent any possible future use.

Campden House, Gloucestershire, burnt down in 1645 by royalist troops (Image © British Library ref: Maps K.Tops.13.75.3)

This controlled approach, for political and legal reasons, was evident on both sides. As the long-term intention was to occupy, rather than destroy, the orders to target attacks and undertake measured actions limited the authority of commanders to raze towns and buildings. To keep the common soldiers of both side in line, the orders issued to prevent indiscriminate destruction threatened transgressions with the death penalty.

Aesthetic considerations were also a factor. The activities of the parliamentarians were directed by the Committee of Both Kingdoms (1643-1649) which issued instructions that certain houses be protected as far as possible, including Burghley House, Cowdray, Chatsworth House, and Hardwick Hall. Specifically, in response to a request in 1646 for permission to burn down High Ercall House, Shropshire, the committee stated that, in general, it did not ‘think it fit that all houses whose situation or strength render them capable of being made garrisons should be pulled down. There would be then too many sad marks left of the calamity of this war.’.


Irish War of Independence

The most prominent example of an organised campaign of country house destruction is the sustained campaign in Ireland in relation to the struggle for independence.

Between 1919-1923, 275 houses were destroyed (Dooley, Terence – The Decline of the Big House in Ireland: A Study of Irish Landed Families. Dublin: Wolfhound Press, 2001) to deny the use of the houses as garrisons, or in symbolic reprisal; either as symbols of the Anglo-Irish aristocracy or for attacks by British forces. Professor Dooley and others such as The Irish Aesthete (Robert O’Byrne) have well-documented this campaign, and they have covered it far better than I could (e.g. ‘…it seems everything we love goes’: The burning of Castleshane, 15 February 1920‘).

Moore Hall, County Mayo, before being burnt down on 1 February 1923 – source: ‘When Moore is Less’ – The Irish Aesthete

Beyond these periods, the country house has been targeted in at least three distinct occasions; the first, a localised religious pogrom, but one which focused on destroying property, rather than lives.

The Birmingham Riots of 1791 (aka: the Priestley Riots)

‘House of the Rev. Dr. Priestly and Elaboratory, Fair hill’ – drawn by E.H. Witton for A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July, 1791, etc. Views of the ruins of the principal houses destroyed during the riots at Birmingham.)’ (Birmingham: Arthur Bache Matthews, 1863)

Birmingham in the 18th-century was notoriously riotous. The people rose up in relation to high food prices (1766, 1782, 1796, 1800), and targeting religious minorities (Dissenters in 1714 and 1715, Quakers and Methodists in 1751 and 1759, and Catholics during the Gordon Riots in 1780). Into this febrile atmosphere, there was the usual tensions of the ages, which corruption, prejudice and alcohol could only exacerbate.

The swirling currents of international events often cause waves which break on distant shores.  The French Revolution in 1789 caused deep concern in England across all levels of society, predictably more for the church and aristocracy. This led to heightened fears around activities which may be seen to sympathise with such radical ideas. For some, though, the radicalism aligned with their own intellectual spirit of curiosity; as willing to explore new political ideas as they were the physical world.

On 14 July 1791, in the Royal Hotel, Birmingham, a dinner was held by a group of the city’s prominent intellectuals, scientists and industrialists. Many were connected with the Lunar Society, an informal social club which met each full moon, whose membership encompassed a broad range of interests. Chief among them was science, and one of the leading members was Joseph Priestley (b.1733 – d.1804), a chemist perhaps best known as being credited with the discovery of oxygen.

Ticket for the dinner at the Royal Hotel celebrating the second anniversary of the storming of the Bastille on 14 July 1791. (Image source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Hotel,_Birmingham (Public Domain))

Priestly was complex figure and combined his extensive scientific knowledge with a deeply-held Christianity and contentiously attempted to combine the two. He brought a scientific sense of discussion to theology, tolerating ideas other than his own, which led to his part in the founding of Unitarianism. Perhaps most controversially, he also was a strong supporter of the French Revolution.

Engraving of the Royal Hotel in Temple Row, Birmingham, in 1800.  Drawn by T. Hollins and engraved by F. Eginton. (Source: Staying in Style: The Hotel – Birmingham in the Long Eighteenth Century)

Priestley, along with others, had organised the 14 July dinner to celebrate the storming of the Bastille, which marked the start of the French Revolution. The event was blamed as the cause of the riot, but in reality this was merely a pretence, for there had been a long-running friction between the established church and dissenters. Those attending the dinner had sensibly proposed the first toast to ‘Church & King’ to express their loyalty and had left some hours before. Priestley, speaking later, reported that:

“When the company met, a croud [sic] was assembled at the door, and some of them hissed, and shewed [sic] other marks of disapprobation, but no material violence was offered to any body. Mr. Keir, a member of the church of England, took the chair; and when they had dined, drank their toasts, and sung the songs which had been prepared for the occasion, they dispersed. This was about five o’clock, and the town remained quiet till about eight. It was evident, therefore, that the dinner was not the proper cause of the riot which followed: but that the mischief had been pre-concerted, and that this particular opportunity was laid hold of for the purpose.”

Whipped up by local agitators, who provided both incendiary pamphlets and alcohol, a mob arrived that evening at the Royal Hotel, eventually smashing every window. The crowd were persuaded to move on by the proprietor, Thomas Dadley, but, either as directed specifically or of their own volition, decided to target the places of worship, businesses, and houses of those Dissenters who had been attending the dinner, whose names had been published in local newspapers.

The riots are considered one of the most documented events in Birmingham history, with both sides producing their accounts, including ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July)‘. Written in a tone which suggests disapproval of the actions of the mob, it also blames those attending the dinner for their apparent disloyalty to King and country. The follow account draws on this report for the factual elements of the account.

The mob moved on, their violence now destroying nearby religious meeting houses associated with Priestley. The local magistrate, who had been inciting or restraining the mob depending on the account, now realised that there was no controlling them. Their targets were now the Dissenter’s homes, both in the city, and in what was then the surrounding countryside (these areas having subsequently been engulfed by the growth of the city).

‘Rioters Burning Dr. Priestley’s House at Birmingham, 14 July 1791’ by Johann Eckstein (Image source: Wikipedia / Susan Lowndes Marques Collection). Some artistic liberty has been taken as the attack was at night.

Thursday 14 July

The first country house to be targeted was Joseph Priestley’s in nearby Fair Hill (which is today, Sparkbrook), less than two miles from the Royal Hotel. A plaque affixed to the side of the 1960s house which currently occupies the site commemorates that this was once a place of renown. On learning that the mob was heading in their direction, Priestley and his wife fled. Their son William bravely remained, but the house and laboratory were ransacked and burnt, the content either stolen or destroyed, including ‘the most truly valuable and useful apparatus of philosophical instruments that perhaps any individual in this or any other country, was ever possessed of.’

The rioters then appear to have decided that this was a sufficient achievement for the day and dispersed – but their work was not yet complete and they met again the next day.

Friday 15 July

The rioters had now split themselves into two groups, one to target the Dissenters houses and property in Birmingham, whilst the second group formed raiding parties to target their country houses in the nearby areas.

‘Baskerville House, the Residence of John Ryland Esq’ – drawn by E.H. Witton for A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July, 1791, etc. Views of the ruins of the principal houses destroyed during the riots at Birmingham.)’ (Birmingham: Arthur Bache Matthews, 1863)

On Friday 15 July, the destruction continued with Baskerville House, on Easy Hill (now Broad Street) being attacked around 2pm. As had become part of the modus operandi of the mob, they ransacked the house for valuables, food, and drink, and then set it alight. Unfortunately, several of the most inebriated attackers failed to escape the house as it was burnt and were killed.

‘Bordesley Hall, the Seat of John Taylor Esq’ – drawn by E.H. Witton for A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July, 1791, etc. Views of the ruins of the principal houses destroyed during the riots at Birmingham.)’ (Birmingham: Arthur Bache Matthews, 1863)

At the same time, a separate group of rioters, descended on Bordesley Hall. It was rebuilt in grand style in 1757, replacing a nearby medieval moated manor house, for the button manufacturer and banker John Taylor who spent some £10,000 on his works. He had emparked 15 hectares of land and laid out an ornamental pool on the brook with an island, bridge, and grotto. Exotic shrubs and swans were imported to complete the scene. When the crowd arrived, ‘There five hundred pounds were offered them to desist, but to no purpose, for they immediately set fire to that beautiful mansion, which, together with its superb furniture, stables, offices, green-house, hot-house, etc. are reduced to a heap of ruins.’ (Matthews).

It was rebuilt but demolished in 1840 when the estate was sold off for housing development.

Saturday 16 July

As the violence moved into the third day, the pretence that this was just the frenzied actions of a spontaneous mob was clearly false as more houses were destroyed by groups of men and women, sent with specific intent.

‘The mob being now victorious, and heated with liquor, everything is dreaded’

A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791, pg. 5
‘The House of William Hutton Esq, Saltley’ – drawn by E.H. Witton for A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July, 1791, etc. Views of the ruins of the principal houses destroyed during the riots at Birmingham.)’ (Birmingham: Arthur Bache Matthews, 1863)

Their next target was the home of William Hutton, bookseller and paper warehouse owner, but also a significant figure in Birmingham history, having published the first history of the city in 1781. His success enabled him in 1769 to build a small country house called Red Hill House in Washwood Heath, approximately three miles from Temple Row.

He later recorded that, ‘The triumphant mob, at four in the morning, attacked my premises at Bennet’s Hill, and threw out the furniture I had tried to save. It was consumed in three fires, the marks of which remain, and the house expired in one vast blaze. The women were as alert as the men. One female, who had stolen some of the property, carried it home while the house was in flames; but returning, saw the coach-house and stables unhurt, and exclaimed, with the decisive tone of an Amazon, ‘Damn the coach-house, is not that down yet? We will not do our work by halves!’ she instantly brought a lighted faggot from the building, set fire to the coach-house, and reduced the whole to ashes.’

‘The House of George Humphrys Esq, Spark Brook’ – drawn by E.H. Witton for A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July, 1791, etc. Views of the ruins of the principal houses destroyed during the riots at Birmingham.)’ (Birmingham: Arthur Bache Matthews, 1863)

Meanwhile, back in Sparkbrook, where the ruins of Joseph Priestley’s house were probably still smouldering, the mob returned, marching on the substantial Sparkbrook House. Home to furniture retailer George Humphrys, ‘He had prepared for a vigorous defence, and would most certainly have been victorious, for he had none but rank cowards to contend with.’ (Hutton). It was reported that, ‘The people who demolished Mr. Humphrys’ house, laboured in as cool and orderly a manner as if they had been employed by the owner at so much per day.’ (Matthews).

‘Moseley Hall, the Residence of Lady Carhampton’ – drawn by E.H. Witton for A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July, 1791, etc. Views of the ruins of the principal houses destroyed during the riots at Birmingham.)’ (Birmingham: Arthur Bache Matthews, 1863)

Their next target was Moseley Hall, also owned by John Taylor, whose other property, Bordesley Hall, had been burnt down the previous day. In a rare vignette of compassion, as Moseley Hall had been rented to the elderly dowager Lady Carhampton (mother of the Duchess of Cumberland), she was given a grace period to enable her belongings to be removed before the fire was started. Curiously, the mob offered genuine assistance to help her do so and protected her belongings in the four waggons it took to take them to safety.

‘The house was spacious; and the conflagration appeared from the town most tremendous. The fury of the mob being directed against this fine building, did not proceed from any hatred to the Lady, but because it was the property of Mr Taylor, whose other houses have been burnt down’

A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. pg. 7

Also razed as Kings Heath House, in King’s Heath (approx. four miles from Temple Row), owned by John Harwood. To the north-east, Wake Green House, in Wake Green, owned by Thomas Hawkes was similarly destroyed (though first having earlier sheltered Joseph Priestley as he fled the attack on his home).

‘The House of William Russell Esq, Stowell Green’ – drawn by E.H. Witton for A.B. Matthews’ ‘The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July, 1791, etc. Views of the ruins of the principal houses destroyed during the riots at Birmingham.)’ (Birmingham: Arthur Bache Matthews, 1863)

William Russells’ house was the final target of the day, though the family had left earlier in the day. William remained to face the mob, but it was claimed that ‘Some pamphlets, of an inflammatory nature, and a private printing press, being found in the house of Mr Russell, were the cause of its being burned.’. (Matthews)

Sunday 17 July

The mob was reported to now be around 2,000 strong. More were joining each hour, including ‘several thousand’ miners from Dudley, Woodside, and Wednesbury, with one fearful estimate that the numbers could, or had already, reached ten thousand. It was clear that the campaign was not just limited to country houses; all property of Dissenters was targeted, including town houses, commercial premises, meeting houses, and mills. By now, those seeking to stop the violence had called on the military to oppose the mobs as they feared that the entire town and others nearby, including Kidderminster, were going to be destroyed, but also that costs of repairs for existing damage would lead to significant tax increases.

The pace of destruction now slowed and the only country houses targeted (but not destroyed) were Ladywood House, the home of Harry Hunt, and Hay Hall at Hay Mills, the home of Joseph Smith.

Edgbaston Hall was the home of Dr William Withering, the noted botanist, who, though not a Dissenter, was known to be a friend of Priestley, therefore his house became of interest to the mob. Luckily for him, his staff were able to delay the mob’s attacks until 64 men of the 15th Regiment of Dragoons arrived from Nottingham to successfully oppose the rioters.

Total losses from the attacks were estimated at £80,000 (approximately £144m on an income value calculation), of which, John Taylor portion was the most significant, totalling £25,000 (approximately £45m – income value).

Monday 18 July

With soldiers continually arriving in Birmingham, the scene became even more tense as the rioters had by now looted several sword factories and were partially armed. In skirmishes, the rioters had actually successfully defended themselves against the soldiers, who retreated to await reinforcements. Later, with the addition of significant numbers of troops, the will of the mob was checked – or, as it was put in a rather understated report:

‘…the magistrates, and some of the principal gentleman of the neighbourhood, explained to them the illegality of their proceedings, and informed them of the immediate and subsequent consequences thereof, which had the desired effect; they dispersed in several small parties, and left the town in possession of its former tranquillity.’

With the riot over, the good townsfolk of Birmingham went back to their usual lives. Protected by the same establishment who had instigated the violence, there appears to have been few consequences for those involved beyond the hangovers and deaths by misadventure and violence, which accounted for some sixty rioters. For those targeted, their lives were forever changed. Many left whilst some rebuilt their lives – but the shadow of violence is one which clouds a life long after it has passed. Joseph Priestley never lived in Birmingham again, moving first to London, before settling in Pennsylvania for the last ten years of his life.

So ended one of the most organised and destructive spasms of peacetime violence against country houses in the UK. The country house was to remain at peace until four decades later, political (rather than religious) anger was to again place them in danger.

Conclusion

Remarkably, the country house was then to remain almost sacrosanct, safe from targeted campaigns of destruction for another half-century until, again, anger spurred action. Part II examines this second outbreak of violence and the country houses it touched.


Further reading

  • Panic on the Streets of Birmingham: July, 1791 (Secret Library Leeds)
  • The Birmingham Riots 1791 (William Dargue – A History of BIRMINGHAM Places & Placenames from A to Y)
  • The riots at Birmingham, July, 1791. (An authentic account of the dreadful riots in Birmingham, occasioned by the celebration of the French Revolution, on the 14th of July, 1791, etc. Views of the ruins of the principal houses destroyed during the riots at Birmingham. Vues des ruines, etc’ / [preface by A. B. Matthews] (Birmingham : Arthur Bache Matthews, 1863).

Reflections on the loss of Clandon Park, Surrey

Loss is mainly regret that we will never see something, or that we have known it and will never see it again.  Where the loss is of something of beauty, which embodied ideas, history, culture, it takes on many facets. Fire is a destructive, cruel enemy, consuming all in its path; caring not for the value – either great or small – simply taking whatever it can as fuel for its avaricious need to grow. On 29 April 2015, as the fire at Clandon Park took hold we hoped for the best – yet sadly, less than twelve hours later, all that remained was a gaunt, blackened shell. The loss was not just the building and its beautiful interiors and contents, but also what it represented to UK architectural history.

Clandon Park, Surrey (Image: Matthew Beckett)
Clandon Park, Surrey (Image: Matthew Beckett)

News breaks now on social media, the first photos and reports of huge plumes of smoke spreading much as the flames did; slowly at first, rapidly growing. Quickly it became clear that the fire had reached the roof and that the rooms on the ground floor of the south side had already gone – the Green Drawing, Palladio, Hunting, Prince Regent.  Each a small gem in themselves, their contents the result of decades of collecting and curation. As the floors above collapsed, it became clear that this was a very serious situation and thoughts immediately are to hope that, first, everyone is safe, but, secondly, how far would the fire go? Sadly, it soon became clear that the entire house was to be consumed in the inferno.

Clandon Park on fire, 29 April 2015 (Image: © Andrew Blondell / BBC Surrey)
Clandon Park on fire, 29 April 2015 (Image: © Andrew Blondell / BBC Surrey)

Why was Clandon Park important? It wasn’t just the history and collections.  Most importantly, the design of the house was a key transitional link between two defining periods of British architectural history; the Anglo-Baroque and the Palladian. The house, both interior and exterior, was designed by a Venetian architect, Giacomo Leoni, and built between 1723-29.  Both the architect and the dates are key to understanding why the house was so significant.

Clandon Park on fire - two-thirds of the house was now on fire (Image: © Oliver Dixon)
Clandon Park on fire – two-thirds of the house was now on fire (Image: © Oliver Dixon)

Giacomo Leoni (b.1686 – d.1746) played a key role in bringing the ideas of Palladio to the UK through the publication of that architects’ ‘I Quattro Libri dell’Architettura (which he called ‘The Architecture of A. Palladio, in Four Books’). Although not an entirely accurate recreation (Leoni wasn’t above adding his own improvements) the instalments (published between 1715-20) were a huge success, casting the ideas of the Palladian ideal deep into the aspirational hearts of the British aristocracy.  Leoni’s edition remained the primary source of the nascent Georgian Palladianism until (prompted by Lord Burlington) Issac Ware produced a more accurate translation in 1738.

Clandon Park on fire - the flames reached the north side (Image: © Alex Greenwood)
Clandon Park on fire – the flames reached the north side (Image: © Alex Greenwood)

For all his intellectual influence, Leoni’s physical output was relatively meagre for a 45-year career – his earliest designs were for an unexecuted rebuilding of Wrest Park in August 1715 for the 1st Duke of Kent. His first completed work was in London in 1721, Queensberry House, 7 Burlington Gardens, for John Bligh, Lord Clifton, which featured an antique temple front, a reduced version of which appears on the south front of Clandon Park. Leoni’s output was mainly country houses; he designed eleven but only nine were completed (the two unfinished houses being Carshalton Park and Thorndon Hall) of which four have been lost already (Moulsham Hall – dem. 1809, Bold Hall – dem. 1901, Burton (or Bodecton) Park – fire 1826, and Lathom House – dem. 1929/1955).

Comparison of Leoni's 7 Burlington Gardens and south front of Clandon Park (Image: 7BG: Wikipedia / Clandon: Matthew Beckett)
Comparison of Leoni’s 7 Burlington Gardens and south front of Clandon Park (Image: 7BG: Wikipedia / Clandon: Matthew Beckett)

This left just four completed house which survived into the 21st-century; Lyme Park (c.1725-35), Alkrington Hall (1735-36), Wortley Hall (1743)- and Clandon Park (1723-29).

The brilliance of Leoni’s design for Clandon had survived almost unchanged as it had remained in the Onslow family until being handed to the National Trust in 1956. Where Clandon excelled was that the exterior was early-Anglo-Palladian; chaste, restrained decoration, subtle temple motif, but this was married with one of the greatest of the Anglo-Baroque rooms, the Marble Hall (the plasterwork of which Sir Simon Jenkins thought better than the similar room at Houghton Hall), and other rooms rich in beauty. This contrast between the quiet exterior and the exuberant interior is what made Clandon so important as the link between two of the most significant trends in British architectural history.

Marble Hall, Clandon Park (Image: Matthew Beckett)
Marble Hall, Clandon Park (Image: Matthew Beckett)

So, what next? The incredible staff and volunteers of the National Trust swiftly put into place the plans they never hoped to have to use and clearly, the efforts are being directed to the care of the salvaged contents and an examination of what can be recovered from the debris.   Investigations will be undertaken and conclusions reached as to the cause but looking to the future the options are the same as ever; rebuild, re-use, or ruin.

Marble Hall, after the fire (Image: © John Millar / NT Picture Library)
Marble Hall, after the fire (Image: © John Millar / NT Picture Library)

As a nation, we have fetishised ruins for centuries with castles, abbeys, fortifications and now factories celebrated for their managed decay. We have enough derelict country houses (far too many, truth be told), so to consign another to that sad, lonely fate would miss the chance to grasp a recoverable beauty and miss the opportunity to demonstrate and inspire through an educational process around the reconstruction.

The Landmark Trust’s inspired recent work at Astley Castle, Warwickshire, to create a modern living space in a shell created by a fire in 1978, shows that ruins can be re-used intelligently and with great aesthetic success.  However, Astley Castle was a smaller house and also without the spectacular interiors which once graced Clandon Park.

Uppark, Sussex (Image: © Matthew Beckett)
Uppark, Sussex (Image: © Matthew Beckett)

So the remaining option is rebuilding and restoration.  As has been shown at Uppark, Sussex, which also suffered a serious (though not quite as devastating) fire in August 1989, it is possible to restore the house back to as it was before.  This is not pastiche as it’s not conjectural – we have extensive, detailed records of the interiors and, combined with salvaged fabric, it is possible to recreate what was there.  As Sir Simon Jenkins argued in the Sunday Times (03/05/2015), it would be unthinkable not the reinstate the great Marble Hall – because we can.

Modern care and conservation means that the rate of losses of country houses has dropped from the hundreds each year in the 1950s to barely a handful and these are almost always due to fire. All those we have – that which survived this far – are fragile and it’s an uncomfortable truth to understand that they will not last forever.  As the painter Salvator Rosa once wrote:

All our works is fallen and sicken
Nothing is eternal
The Colossei die, the Baths
The worlds are dust, their pomp a nothing…

Rather than despair, we should celebrate and enjoy the architectural heritage which is still available to us and care for it for future generations. The original Clandon Park is lost; that patina of age, the individual details which only it knew are no more. Although the contents have been largely lost, resurrection is the most appropriate option as the main shell of the house has survived – the sterling work of the fire service has saved at least one half of Leoni’s vision. Modern craftsmen with ancient crafts, honed at Uppark, Hampton Court, and Windsor Castle, can recreate the beauty of the interior.  It won’t be the original but from our shock at the loss can come awe at the artistic skills that can recreate such wonders as the Marble Hall.

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Gallery of images of the aftermath: ‘Clandon Park fire 2015‘ [National Trust Picture Library]

Statement: ‘Fire breaks out at Clandon Park, Surrey‘ [National Trust]

Peckforton Castle, Cheshire, seriously damaged in arson attack

Peckforton Castle, Cheshire (Image: the pepper tree / flickr)
Peckforton Castle, Cheshire (Image: the pepper tree / flickr)

In the early hours of Sunday (19 June 2011) a serious fire broke out in the Drawing Room of grade-I listed Peckforton Castle and has gutted all three floors of that wing, affecting approximately 25% of the building. Sadly, it appears that this terrible destruction in one of the finest mock castles in the country is reported to be the result of an arson attack by the groom, apparently over the wedding bill.  That such a wonderful building could be damaged over something so stupid is beyond belief.  The full extent of the damage – and credit to the fire service for preventing it spreading – will only become truly apparent over the next few days.

Peckforton Castle sits on a Cheshire hill-top, facing down the medieval Beeston Castle on the neighbouring peak.  Yet, Peckforton is a Victorian creation for the 1st Lord Tollemache, who had commissioned Anthony Salvin to marry the conveniences demanded by a Victorian landowner with a scholarly re-creation of an ancient castle, creating the muscular skyline so visible today.  The style of the castle is a reflection of the character of Tollemache – vigorous sportsman, statesman, father to 24 children, and, above, benevolent landlord.  Tollemache had inherited the 26,000-acre estate through his grandmother, co-heiress of the 4th Earl of Dysart, and had particularly Victorian vision of how an estate should be run, saying “The only lasting pleasure to be derived from the possession of a landed estate is to witness the improvement of the social condition of those residing on it.” To this end, he reduced the size of each farm to 200-acres and rebuilt every farmhouse and labourers cottage on the estate at a cost of £280,000 (approx. £20m) and to each cottage he allocated a further 3-acres to help them grow their own produce.

The estate lacked a main house and so Tollemache went against the prevailing fashion of the time and commissioned an authentic re-creation of a medieval castle which was built between 1844 and 1850.  The fashion for sham castles had grown out of the Georgian Picturesque movement which applauded such visions of a castle – symbol of ancient chivalry – and landscape combined to create an aesthetically pleasing view. Yet, in demanding an accurate castle, Tollemache rejected many of the compromises that had previously characterised the lesser shams, such as having a great gatehouse but also acres of glass, which were being roundly criticised by architects such as Pugin who demanded architectural authenticity.

Courtyard, Peckforton Castle, Cheshire (Image: Bob W / flickr)
Courtyard, Peckforton Castle, Cheshire (Image: Bob W / flickr)

Tollemache’s architect was Anthony Salvin (b.1799 – d.1881), who, on the strength of the success of Peckforton, was commissioned to also work on Alnwick Castle and the Tower of London, and many more.  Salvin was the perfect architect for the job with his Victorian understanding of the romance of castles and the appeal of the Middle Ages but also a sound practical training with John Nash which gave him the skill to successfully, as Alfred Waterhouse wrote to Lord Tollemache in 1878, “…combine the exterior and plan of an Edwardian [Edward I] Castle with nineteenth-century elegance and comfort.

Castle Drogo, Devon (Image: wikipedia)
Castle Drogo, Devon (Image: wikipedia)

Faced with the choice between architectural accuracy and convenience most of Tollemache’s contemporaries opted for more fashionable styles leaving relatively few of these large-scale re-creations.  Other examples of ‘real’ sham castles include William Burges‘ designs for Lord Bute at Castell Coch, Belvoir Castle for the Dukes of Rutland, and the powerfully brooding Penryhn Castle, built between 1840-50, for George Hay Dawkins-Pennant.  The demand for an authentic castle then largely abates until Julius Drewe’s commission, built in the 1910s and 1920s, for Sir Edwin Lutyens which results in the wonderful Castle Drogo.  By their very nature, their stern exteriors make them untraditional country houses yet they hark back to the oldest form of home for the landed gentry, and a symbol of power and prestige.

Sadly, arson attacks on country houses are not unknown – witness the terrible devastation brought to Hafodunos Hall in Wales by two bored idiots in 2004. With Peckforton Castle, the success of the design, both as an exterior composition, but also for the practical yet impressive interiors is why the house is such an important part of the nation’s architectural heritage.  The house was only recently subject to a £1.7m restoration programme by the Naylor family who own it and have worked immensely hard to bring to life a house that had been empty since WWII.  Hopefully the damage will not turn out to be as extensive as feared – though estimates for restoration are already said to be around £1m.  The strength of the construction means that it will almost certainly be restorable and will hopefully again rise soon from the ashes of this terrible fire.

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News stories:

Listing description: ‘Peckforton Castle‘ [britishlistedbuildings]

Back from the brink: country houses rescued from dereliction

Finedon Hall, Northamptonshire (Image: Stephens Pictures / flickr)
Finedon Hall, Northamptonshire (Image: Stephens Pictures / flickr)

One often forgotten aspect of local newspapers is their ability to draw on their archives and provide reminders of local history. The local paper frequently played an important part in publicising the goings on at the ‘big house’, reporting the successes and scandals with usually equal vigour.  A recent article in the Northamptonshire ‘Evening Telegraph‘ reflects not only on the collapse of the Volta tower, built by the owner of Finedon Hall as a memorial to his drowned son, but also the later dereliction and near loss of the house itself as it slipped from dereliction ever closer to demolition.  Yet, unlike so many hundreds of other country houses which were lost, Finedon Hall was one of the many which have been saved.

c1980 - Finedon Hall, Northamptonshire (Image: Evening Telegraph)
c1980 - Finedon Hall, Northamptonshire (Image: Evening Telegraph)

Finedon Hall has 17th-century origins but its current style is the result of what Mark Girouard called “eccentric chunky” alterations by E.F. Law for the owner, William Mackworth-Dolben, in the 1850s.  Built in a Tudor-Gothic style in the local ironstone (which was quarried on their land) the house passed through the family until the last of the family, the spinster Ellen Mackworth-Dolben died in 1912.  With no heirs, the estate was sold off in parcels with the house passing through a number of owners before being bought by developers in 1971.  For over a decade they allowed the house to deteriorate until just ten years later parts of the roof had gone and the exterior was in serious danger of collapse.  Luckily, more enlightened developers stepped in and during the 1990s the house (and estate buildings) were converted into apartments.

One of the largest houses to be converted in this way was Thorndon Hall in Essex.  One of James Paine‘s largest commissions, this Palladian mansion was originally built for the 9th Lord Petre in 1764-7 but was gutted by fire in 1876, leaving only the eastern end of the main block and the eastern pavilion intact.  The Petre family lived in the reduced house until 1919 when they leased it and the estate to a golf club and they moved back to the original family home, Ingatestone Hall.  The house remained a largely ruined shell until it was sold for development in 1976 but was then bought in 1978 by a local builder who created a total of 84 apartments in the house, pavilions and estate buildings.

Ecton Hall, Northamptonshire (Image: Conway Collections / Courtauld Institute of Art)
Ecton Hall, Northamptonshire (Image: Conway Collections / Courtauld Institute of Art)

One of the most accomplished and intelligent of the developers to convert country houses is Kit Martin who has saved several houses and including Ecton Hall in Northamptonshire.  The house was largely remodelled by Ambrose Isted in 1755 in the then relatively new ‘Gothic-Revival‘ style (Horace Walpole had only started his work at Strawberry Hill in the early 1750s and it’s considered one of the earliest houses in the new style).  The house was filled with fine art, books and furniture and passed through the Isteds and then, by marriage, to the Sothebys who owned it until the last died, childless, in 1952. At this point the rot set in; builders called in to remove a large kitchen extension also, apparently, stole the valuable lead from the roof leading to dry and wet rot. Alexander Creswell, visiting in the 1980s, described the scene:

“The rich ochre stone of the garden front is engulfed in Virginia creeper, and sparkles of broken glass litter the terrace.  Inside the house, the drawing room fireplace rises above a heap of plaster that the roof has brought down…At one end of the house the winter storms have toppled a gable, which in falling has crushed the fragile camellia-house below; one surviving camellia blooms among the rubble of ironstone – the only flourishing vestige of Ecton’s former glory” – ‘The Silent Houses of Britain

However, by 1989 Kit Martin had finished his work and the new apartments were advertised for sale in Country Life; a remarkable rescue for this almost lost house.

Gunton Park, Norfolk (Image: Broads Marshman / flickr)
Gunton Park, Norfolk (Image: Broads Marshman / flickr)

Perhaps Kit’s finest work is Gunton Park in Norfolk.  The house was originally the work of Matthew Brettingham, a competent, if sometimes unimaginative, Palladian who had first achieved recognition with his work executing William Kent and Lord Burlington‘s designs for Holkham Hall.  This work brought him to the attention of other aristocratic clients, particularly in Norfolk, including Sir William Harbord who commissioned him in 1745 to design a replacement at Gunton for an earlier house which had burnt down three years earlier.  Brettingham’s house was to be significantly enlarged c.1785 to designs by James Wyatt.

Sadly, fire struck again; in 1882 the Brettingham portion of the house, including the fine rooms, was almost completely gutted and remained a forlorn shell for the next 100 years.  Kit Martin bought the house in 1981 and sensitively created well-proportioned apartments in the remaining wings. The front of the Brettingham wing (pictured above) become one large house separated from the main block by a large void created by the fire but still linked by the retained façades.  It’s not just the house which has been rejuvenated; the parkland – nearly 1,000 acres – has also been bought or, through agreements, reunited (and in the process winning an award from Country Life magazine) to restore the setting of this elegant house.

Barlaston Hall, Staffordshire (Image: Peter I. Vardy / Wikipedia)
Barlaston Hall, Staffordshire (Image: Peter I. Vardy / Wikipedia)

It’s rare for a house, once in a state of dereliction, to be restored as a single family home, yet thankfully it does happen. Barlaston Hall is one example of this – and it’s rescue was down to some bold decisions by the campaigning charity SAVE Britain’s Heritage and their President, the architectural writer Marcus Binney, who was offered this elegant house for £1!  Barlaston Hall is, according to Binney, almost certainly the work of the architect Sir Robert Taylor (b.1714 – d.1788).   The house is a relatively unadorned but sophisticated house, enlivened with unusual octagonal and diamond glazing bars in the sash windows; Taylor’s response to the popularity of Chinese Chippendale furniture and a general fashion for the Rococo.

Dining Room - Barlaston Hall, Staffordshire (Image: Christopher Dalton)
Dining Room - Barlaston Hall, Staffordshire (Image: Christopher Dalton)

However, the house had been built on several coal seams which threatened the house when they were mined in the 20th-century.  Structurally unsound, it had been abandoned and vandalised but SAVE stepped in to challenge Wedgewood’s application to demolish.  At the subsequent public inquiry, the National Coal Board threw down the challenge that SAVE could buy the house for £1 provided it completed restoration and repairs within six years.  SAVE swung into action, raising money through grants and by forcing the NCB to meet its obligations (which it did after some shameful attempts to avoid doing so), and the house was stabilised, restored, and subsequently sold to a couple who completed the interior and it remains a family home.

Piercefield House, Monmouthshire (Image: darkcell / flickr)
Piercefield House, Monmouthshire (Image: darkcell / flickr) - click to see large version

Sadly there are many country houses still at risk today – though the rescues also continue. Pell Well Hall in Shropshire, a wonderful house by Sir John Soane built in 1822-28, has been restored as a shell after decades of neglect, vandalism and fire, and now requires someone with vision to complete the process.  Bank Hall in Lancashire was featured in the original ‘Restoration’ TV series but has continued to deteriorate with sections collapsing.  However, planning permission is being sought to convert the house into apartments which will enable restoration of the house. One house however has, inexplicably (well, to me), remained unrestored; Piercefield House in Monmouthshire.  This beautiful house, again by Sir John Soane, became uninhabited and was mistreated during WWII by the American troops stationed nearby who used the façade for target practice.  The house, set in 129 acres, has been for sale for several years but despite the architectural provenance and the wonderful setting it remains unsold.

The story of the country house has always been one of changing fortunes, which sadly led to many being demolished. The difference now we have heritage legislation is that whereas before houses were often simply demolished, now their plight is likely to drag on for many years.  Restoration is often the best course of action, preserving as much of the original fabric as possible, and ideally as a single family home, though the less palatable options of conversion are always to be preferred to the complete loss of another of our historic houses.

News story: ‘Fascinating history of Hall‘ [Evening Telegraph]

Going to the country: more country houses of UK Prime Ministers – Part 2

The first part of this series, highlighted the aristocratic background of our early Prime Ministers – Earls and Dukes abound.  This meant that a country house was just where they had been brought up and simply regarded as home rather than the aspirational purchase.  It also highlighted that the architectural tastes of the PMs reflected their political beliefs with a strong preference for the Classical, representing structure and order.

So, to continue the tour of country houses of Prime Ministers, this time those who served  under George III (1760–1820):

Luton Hoo, Bedfordshire (Image: ickle_angel/Flickr)
Luton Hoo, Bedfordshire (Image: ickle_angel/Flickr)

The first was John Stuart, 3rd Earl of Bute. Originally a man of rather limited means who only acquired great wealth following his marriage to the rich heiress, Mary Wortley Montagu. The family seat was Mount Stuart on the Isle of Bute; at the time a small Queen Anne house which burnt down in 1877 to be replaced by the Gothic palace we see today.  With his later wealth and prominence the Earl created two fine new country houses.  On his retirement as PM, he bought Luton Hoo, Bedfordshire in 1763 and in 1767 commissioned Robert Adam to create a large neoclassical mansion which, although this was never fully realised, the resulting house (now a hotel) is still sizable.  The wings are a later addition but faithful to Adam’s original conception. Ill health later forced a move to the Dorset coast and having bought a clifftop position he built High Cliff “to command the finest outlook in England.“.  Unfortunately it was a little to fine, the crumbling cliff not only necessitated the demolition of the house in the late 1790s, it also led to the Earl’s death in 1792 due to a fall whilst picking plants.

He was succeeded as PM in 1763 by George Grenville who was born, and lived, at the family seat, Wotton House, Buckinghamshire.  He is one of only nine PMs who did not become a peer on leaving office.

Wentworth Woodhouse, Yorkshire (Image: geograph.co.uk)
Wentworth Woodhouse, Yorkshire (Image: geograph.co.uk)

If there was a competition for the most impressive house of Prime Ministers then Charles Watson-Wentworth, 2nd Marquess of Rockingham would be feeling rather confident.  His family home, Wentworth Woodhouse, Yorkshire, is one of the largest private country houses in Britain with a main front extending to over 600ft. Built over a 25-year period, the house exemplifies the grand palaces which became possible in Georgian England. Faced with the usual pressures on later owners, plus vindictive coal mining, the family moved out and the house was leased as a teacher training college but since 1999 it has been the home of architect Clifford Newbold and his family who have been undertaking a massive and very impressive restoration programme.

William Pitt the Elder, 1st Earl of Chatham was brought up in great comfort from the proceeds of the sale of the Regent Diamond by his father.  As the younger son, Pitt would not inherit the family seat and so made his own way, choosing politics and becoming PM in 1766.  His country residence was the relatively modest Hayes Place in Kent, which he had built after he bought the estate in 1757.  He later sold it in 1766 to Horace Walpole who encased the house in white brick and enlarged it before selling back to Pitt in 1768 on his retirement.  The house survived until 1933 when it was demolished and houses built on the land.

Euston Hall, Suffolk (Image: David Robarts / flickr)
Euston Hall, Suffolk (Image: David Robarts / flickr)

Another Prime Ministerial seat to suffer later loss was Euston Hall in Suffolk seat of Augustus FitzRoy, 3rd Duke of Grafton who succeeded William Pitt.  The Dukes of Grafton were very wealthy with extensive land holdings in Suffolk, Norfolk, Northamptonshire and London.  Euston Hall had been extensively remodelled by the Palladian architect Matthew Brettingham for the 2nd Duke between 1750-56.  The house suffered a devastating fire in 1902 which destroyed the south and west wings, which were subsequently rebuilt on the same plan but then demolished again by the 10th Duke in 1952.  It should also be noted that the Dukes also owned the splendid Wakefield Lodge in Northamptonshire, designed by William Kent, though it was tenanted and therefore the Dukes never lived there.

William Petty-FitzMaurice, 2nd Earl of Shelburne had the splendid fortune to be brought up in one of the finest of Georgian country houses, Bowood House in Wiltshire, which also became a scandalous loss when it was demolished in 1955/56.  Remodelled for the 1st Earl by Henry Keene between 1755-60, the house also featured interiors by Robert Adam, who also altered Keene’s original portico to create a much grander version.  Afterwards the stables were converted to function as the main house where the 9th Marquess of Lansdowne (as the Earls became) still lives today.

Welbeck Abbey, Nottinghamshire (Image: Mr Nibbler / flickr)
Welbeck Abbey, Nottinghamshire (Image: Mr Nibbler / flickr)

The next PM, William Cavendish-Bentinck, 3rd Duke of Portland inherited Welbeck Abbey, Nottinghamshire, which had also been the home of an earlier PM, his relative Thomas Pelham-Holles, 1st Duke of Newcastle.  As stated in Part 1, this is a fascinating house which has often been overlooked due to the fact that it has been rarely open to the in the last 100 years, public tours having finished in 1914. Extensive work was carried out between 1742-46 by the relatively unknown architect John James who reconstructed the south wing and remodelled the west front for Henrietta, Countess of Oxford.  The west front was subsequently changed again in 1790 to designs by Sir Humphry Repton.  The Dukes of Portland also had a southern seat at Bulstrode Park in Buckinghamshire, though this house was replaced in 1865 by the 12th Duke of Somerset who by then owned the estate.

In contrast to the vast wealth and aristocratic status of the preceeding PM, William Pitt the Younger was able to bring political heritage; his father also having served in the same role. In stark contrast to the size and splendour of Welbeck, his country home was Holwood House in Kent, a modest mansion set in 200-acres for which Pitt paid £7,000 in 1783 before commissioning Sir John Soane to alter and enlarge it in 1786 and 1795.  Soane’s work here led to Pitt recommending him for the work to build what was to be one of Soane’s masterpieces; the Bank of England building which was so sadly demolished in the 1920s.  Holwood was also to be demolished, in 1823, to be replaced by a much grander house designed by Decimus Burton.

The country houses of Henry Addington 1st Viscount Sidmouth have both largely now vanished under the sprawl that is Reading University.  Addington had a low-key record as PM and his houses were equally modest.  Although on becoming PM Addington moved into the beautiful White Lodge in Richmond, his main seat was Woodley House, Berkshire, which had been built in 1777 before being bought by Addington in 1789. At the same time, he also bought the neighbouring estate of Bulmershe Court which was then tenanted, before falling into disrepair in the 19th century leading to two-thirds of it being demolished. Woodley House was used by the Minstry of Defence during WWII but subsequent dereliction led to its demolition in 1960.

William Wyndham Grenville, 1st Lord Grenville, as well as abolishing slavery, also created one of the most elegant of the houses in this series; Dropmore House in Buckinghamshire.  Built in 1795 and designed by Samuel Wyatt (b.1737 – d.1807) with later work by Charles Heathcote Tatham (b.1772 – d.1842), it was Grenville’s refuge, describing it as ‘deep sheltered from the world’s tempestuous strife‘. The grounds were also lavished with attention with Grenville planting 2,500 trees, and creating numerous walks which took in the superb views and even going as far as to remove a hill which blocked the view to Windsor Castle.  Tragically, devastating fires in 1990 and 1997 left a ruined shell but it has been recently rebuilt as a series of luxury apartments.

The only PM to be assassinated, Spencer Perceval, never really had a country seat of his own but had grown up in Enmore Castle, Somerset though he would never inherit as he was the second son of second marriage.  Only a small section of the main house now remains after it was largely demolished in 1833, but originally Enmore, built c1779, was one of the largest houses in the county.  In later life, Perceval lived in a large house called Elm Grove on the south side of Ealing Common in London – though at the time this would have been quite a rural area but not quite enough to classify this as a true country house.

The final PM under George III was Robert Banks Jenkinson, 2nd Earl of Liverpool who again chose to live close to London, though in a country house, at Coombe House in Kingston upon Thames in Surrey.  Originally Tudor, this brick house was replaced with a Georgian mansion which was later altered by Sir John Soane, including the addition of a library.  The house survived until 1933 when it was demolished with houses now covering the site.

So although the Gothic revival movement had started in the 1740s and was the main alternative to the dominant Classical architectural style, even by the 1820s, it did not reflect the tastes of any of the Prime Ministers.  Considering the system still echoed the exclusions of the Reformation with its explicit rejection of all things ‘catholic’ (architectural, theological, political) it was unlikely to change, especially as the Catholic Emancipation Bill wasn’t passed until 1828.  Architecture was taken an expression of belief and so to favour the Gothic could potentially have given the wrong signals.

Next: Prime Ministers under George IV and William IV

List of UK Prime Ministers

Going to the country: the country houses of UK Prime Ministers – Part 1

Houghton Hall, Norfolk (Image: Dennis Smith / Geograph)
Houghton Hall, Norfolk (Image: Dennis Smith / Geograph)

Those in important political roles have often sought to escape the pressures of office by escaping to the calm and tranquillity of the countryside.  This has been particularly true of the holder of the most important role; that of Prime Minister.  With early PMs drawn from the aristocracy, their backgrounds provided them with a seat which became a natural refuge but was also an important part of their political identity.  However, as their origins changed, so too did the nature of the country retreat.  However, for all PMs the country retreat has been a fairly constant feature – though not all aspired to live in grandeur.

To make this broad survey more digestible I’ve split this into PMs by ruling monarch, starting from when the role of Prime Minister was first recognised in 1721 under King George I.

The first holder of the office, Robert Walpole, 1st Earl of Orford, was the epitome of the aristocratic leader.  Walpole was born at Houghton Hall in Norfolk – though the house was a more modest one before Sir Robert engaged Colen Campbell in 1722 to rebuild it, creating one of the finest Palladian houses in the country.  The second PM was Spencer Compton, 1st Earl of Wilmington, who also employed Colen Campbell in 1726 to create a more modest home; Compton Place in Sussex.

The seat of Henry Pelham, who became the 3rd PM in 1743, was (according to Howard Colvin) Esher Place in Surrey which he bough in 1729. In 1733, he commissioned William Kent, who was also to create some garden buildings for Claremont for the Duke of Newcastle (see below), to add wings to the original house, Wolsey’s Tower, in a Gothic style.  The wings and garden buildings at Esher have now been demolished but drawings survive in the Victoria & Albert Museum in London.

Pelham was succeeded as PM by his older brother, Thomas Pelham-Holles, the 1st Duke of Newcastle, whose main seat was Claremont in Esher, Surrey which he had bought from Sir John Vanbrugh who had built a ‘very small box’ as his own home.  The Duke then commissioned Vanbrugh to extend the house, adding two large wings.  This house was subsequently demolished as unfashionable by Clive of India who had bought the estate in 1768 following the Duke’s death, before being rebuilt in the Palladian style we see today.   The Duke also had other homes including in Halland, Sussex, an area the Pelham family had dominated since 1595 when they first bought land there.  Halland Place was also sold in 1768 and later demolished for materials.  [Originally I gave Welbeck Abbey as his seat but it was, in fact, inherited by the Holles Earls of Clare branch of the family creating a bitter feud.  A more detailed history of the feud is given by dennis in this comment below (thank you for the correction).]

One of the most fascinating houses in the country, particularly due to the extensive tunnelling work commissioned by the 5th Duke, but also one of the least known due to the reclusiveness of the Bentinck family and then later due to its role as the Army Sixth Form college which ensured military-level privacy. The house was largely the work of Sir Charles Cavendish who was given the house and estate by his mother, the remarkable Bess of Hardwick. [Corrected in response to comment below]

To complete the list of aristocratic PMs during the reign of George I (1714–1727) and George II (1727–1760), the last was William Cavendish, 4th Duke of Devonshire who lived in the peerless Chatsworth in Derbyshire – then, as now, one of the finest of our large country houses.  Interestingly, at the same time as he took on the role of PM in 1756, he also engaged in building at Chatsworth employing James Paine to add a new office wing and court (later replaced by Sir Jeffry Wyatville), a stable block, a bridge in the park, a bridge at Beeley, a water mill and also alterations to interiors of the house – though this work was not to be completed until 1767, long after his time as PM finished in 1757.

One notable feature of all the first PMs was they were all Whigs, a party nicknamed the ‘Country Party’ for their support was strongest in the shires and amongst the great landowners.  Unsurprisingly, these leaders were already managing vast estates which naturally came with sizeable houses which reflected their status – which then gave them the authority to aspire to be PM.  At this time, elections were rather crude affairs with the major landowners having MPs in their pockets due to ‘rotten boroughs‘ which gave the landowner a disproportionate, not to mention undemocratic, influence in the Houses of Commons.  Their country houses were therefore not a symptomatic trapping of power, something that they had aspired to and then acquired, but, in fact, were the foundation of the power which had secured them the position in the first place.

Chatsworth House, Derbyshire
Chatsworth House, Derbyshire

Architecturally, the apparently only acceptable styles were either Palladian or Classical which reflected the political nature of the landowners – symmetry, structure, proportion and the use of the correct orders would have appealed to those who were against monarchical absolutism (which would have challenged their own power) but also reflected a societal structure which ensured their wealth and status.  The Whigs were also closely associated with the Church of England and, as such, would not have entertained the idea of building their houses in the ‘Catholic’ Gothic style, and anyway, with the neo-Gothic movement only really starting in the 1740s it would be several decades before it gained real influence.

So the early years of the role of PM was dominated by the existing ruling class; the great landowners who now shifted from trying to solely influence events through the levers of Royal favouritism (though their support of the Hanoverian succession and therefore King George wasn’t overlooked) to the use of Parliament – though on their terms.  The houses which had often been built to attract and impress a visiting monarch in the hope of securing influence now shifted to helping build alliances with other landowners – and what better way than creating a home they would feel comfortable in? Architecture had become a key part of the political landscape; a physical expression of certain values but also part of a supporting cast which would build the alliances which elevated men to be Prime Minister.

Next: a change of King, and a new PM.

List of UK Prime Ministers

Thanks to Andrew for the original suggestion for this survey

An autumn flutter: country houses currently for sale

Country houses are often launched on the market to catch either bonus money early in the year or those looking to move before the summer.  However, circumstances or owner preference can lead to some interesting houses being given a promotional push in the autumn (usually through Country Life magazine) to catch those who fancy Christmas in front a different log fire.  So, here’s a quick round-up of some of the better country houses currently for sale.

Upton Pynes, Devon (Image: Upton Pynes website)
Upton Pynes, Devon (Image: Upton Pynes website)

Easily one of the most impressive houses is one that has always been a sign for me that I’m nearly home when travelling back to Devon on the train.  Just outside Exeter is the beautiful grade-II* listed Upton Pynes, which, despite the very English sounding name, bears a striking resemblance to a French chateau.  Built c.1700 by Hugh Stafford with very sympathetic later additions, this large but elegant house sits in a commanding position in the Exe Valley, perfectly positioned to catch the sun throughout the day, giving the red-brick façades a warm glow.  Described by Pevsner as “…an excellent example of the stately double-pile house that became popular after the Restoration but is relatively rare in Devon.”, the interior features a particularly grand entrance hall created as part of alterations in 1852 by the architect Ambrose Poynter for Sir Stafford Henry Northcote (later the Earl of Iddesleigh).  The main interiors of the house, including an enfilade of rooms on the south front and a notable library, largely dates from 1700.  The house also has the claim that it was the one Jane Austen had in mind when describing ‘Barton House’ in ‘Sense & Sensibility’.  The house still requires some restoration but will definitely reward whoever completes this grand project.

> More information: ‘Upton Pynes, Devon‘ £3.25m, 37-acres [Savills]

Crendle Court, Dorset (Image: Savills)
Crendle Court, Dorset (Image: Savills)

Sometimes a grand house designed by an interesting architect can remarkably remain unlisted, as is the case with the Edwardian Crendle Court in Dorset which was designed by Walter H. Brierley (b.1862 – d.1926) who has been described as ‘the Yorkshire Lutyens’.  A prolific architect, he designed over 300 buildings including schools, churches and several country houses including the elegant neo-Georgian Sion Hill Hall in Yorkshire.  Brierley was a versatile architect able to work successfully in various styles though with a preference for ‘Wrenaissance’ – a modern re-working of the architectural language of Sir Christopher Wren.  Crendle Court was built in 1909 and features elaborate ornamental plasterwork in the main reception rooms by George Bankart, and sits, well, more luxuriates, in 270-acres of grounds.  Considering the architect and the quality English Heritage ought to send someone round to evaluate and spot list it before it gets ruined by someone with more money than taste.

> More information: ‘Crendle Court, Dorset‘ £6.95m, 270-acres [Savills]

Rudby Hall, Yorkshire (Image: Carter Jonas)
Rudby Hall, Yorkshire (Image: Carter Jonas)

Other significant houses available were launched earlier but are now being promoted following price cuts.  One such house is the grade-II* listed Rudby Hall in Yorkshire, which was originally given a guide price of £3.5m but now is offered at £2.75m.  Designed by Anthony Salvin in 1838 for the 10th Viscount Falkland, who originally called it Leven Grove, but by the late 19th-century it was known as Skutterskelfe Hall before being given its present name by the company which owned it in the 1990s.  The house was restored in the 1980s and comprises the main house but with the ancillary buildings converted into let accommodation bringing in a handy £50,000 p/a – so long as you don’t mind sharing your gardens, grounds and woodlands with them.

> More information: ‘Rudby Hall, Yorkshire‘ £2.75m, 10-acres [Carter Jonas]

Blairquhan Castle, Ayrshire, Scotland (Image: Blairquhan Castle website)
Blairquhan Castle, Ayrshire, Scotland (Image: Blairquhan Castle website)

For those who fancy something more baronial, then Blairquhan Castle in Ayrshire, Scotland may be perfect.  The core of the property is a tower house built in 1346 but was later given a new front by William Burn in 1820-24 to provide the imposing if slightly stern façade we see today.  The estate was noted for it beauty with Lord Cockburn writing in 1844: “I rose early…and surveyed the beauties of Blairquhan. It deserves its usual praises. A most gentleman-like place rich in all sorts of attractions – of wood, lawn, river, gardens, hill, agriculture and pasture.”.  What more could a squire desire?

> More information: ‘Blairquhan Castle, Scotland‘ £4.85m, 670-acres [Savills]

Beaurepaire House, Hampshire (Image: Knight Frank)
Beaurepaire House, Hampshire (Image: Knight Frank)

Most of these houses seem to be with Savills so to even things up, and to include a house I’m surprised hasn’t sold already, is Beaurepaire in Hampshire.  The house was featured on the blog in more detail (‘Phoenix for sale: Beaurepaire House, Hampshire‘) when it was first launched in June this year.  The house is what remains after a devastating fire in 1942 destroyed the main block of the house, leaving the current service wing which was extensively refurbished and remodelled after WWII to give the elegant house which is for sale today.  Approached down a long drive, what guest couldn’t fail to be impressed by the wonderful gates designed by Sir John Soane which guard the entrance over the moat?  Sitting in a 250-acre estate, the £8m price tag is probably justified for the area – and the owner is apparently in no rush to sell so don’t expect any big price cut soon.

> More information: ‘Beaurepaire, Hampshire‘ £8m, 250-acres [Knight Frank]

How tourism split a house from the estate: Warwick Castle, Warwickshire

Warwick Castle, Warwickshire (Image: Gernot Keller/Wikipedia)
Warwick Castle, Warwickshire (Image: Gernot Keller/Wikipedia)

A small advert tucked away in a recent Country Life marks the final split of a house from it’s estate. With the sale of the parkland associated with Warwick Castle in Warwickshire, another house loses control over an important asset – though this separation is very much tied up with the history of the opening of country houses to tourists, and this castle in particular.

Country house visiting is perhaps thought of as a more modern phenomenon but Warwick Castle was one of the first houses to be truly exploited as a tourist attraction with visitors coming in significant numbers from 1815 onwards. The growth of the industrial Midlands in the Victorian era and consequently a growing middle class seeking excursions, shifted the pattern of ‘show-houses’ (that is, ones regularly open to the public when the family were absent or on specific days) northwards, away from the more aristocratic 18th-century London-Bath axis.  The Midlands were particularly well provided for with many houses open to the public from the 1850s including Eaton Hall, Chatsworth House, Haddon Hall, Newstead Abbey, and Belvoir Castle amongst perhaps a hundred.  This reached a peak in the 1880s when the most popular houses would receive tens of thousands of visitors a year, reflecting a popular interest in the houses of ‘Olden Time‘ as popularised by writers such as Joseph Nash and Sir Walter Scott.

Warwick Castle, with it’s prized medieval origins, was particularly popular – to the extent that not opening it was considered unthinkable.  That the public expected to be allowed to see inside these houses could be shown in a comment in the Daily Telegraph in 1871 which said:

An Earl of Warwick who would make his whole castle his own in the spirit of an inhospitable curmudgeon, who would shut out all eyes but his own from the feast within those walls, is a being so opposed to every English tradition that it is difficult to realise him.

For the aristocratic owners, economics certainly played a stronger role than any sense of public generosity.  For some, having a popular house in the country was no inconvenience as, such as at Dunster Castle in Somerset, it was remarked in 1845; ‘The owner, an inveterate Bachelor, lives in London and hardly ever comes here‘.

Especially convenient for trippers from Birmingham and the nearby resort of Leamington Spa, Warwick Castle was hosting as many as 6,000 visitors per year in 1825-26 and when the Earl of Warwick’s housekeeper died in 1834 she was said to have left £30,000 earned from tips.  Yet it was the devastating fire of December 1871 which firmly moved the castle from being simply a home to a business. The fire destroyed the family apartments but luckily left the oldest parts of the castle untouched.  The Earl of Warwick’s financial situation meant that he simply could not afford to restore the house to its former glory, a prospect which scared the local tradespeople, fearing the loss of the tourist trade and so a restoration fund was created.  However, to ensure the Earl’s pride was not dented it was presented as recognition of the burden he bore as owner of a national treasure.

However, a furious response from no lesser figure than John Ruskin marked the start of a backlash, saying ‘If a noble family cannot rebuild their own castle, in God’s name let them live in the nearest ditch till they can‘.  Behind this was the growing social democratic movement which moved from support of national treasures privately-owned towards a more socialist belief that national assets ought to be owned by the ‘people’.  The purchase of Aston Hall by Birmingham Council in 1864 as a public museum and park was no doubt playing on the minds of both certain radical sections of society and Lord Warwick – though for different reasons.  The appeal eventually raised £9,000 which paid for restoration by Anthony Salvin but the importance of opening the house as an attraction was highlighted as a way of not only funding costs but also as a way of keeping the public happy that they had ‘access’ to what they now felt of as ‘theirs’.

From this point, the house was never really a private home again.  The Earl and his son embraced the tourist industry but in 1885 closed the castle for a year to re-organise the showing on a more commercial basis.  Gone were the old servants acting as guides; in came professionals paid for by the one shilling admission tickets.  The new system was a success, with 20,000 visitors in the first full year of the new regime.  The new domestic arrangements were confirmed by the 5th Earl who inherited in 1893 and preferred to live at his wife’s estate Easton Lodge in Essex.  In the same year, the castle staged its first historical pageant, which was repeated on a grander scale in 1906.  The 6th Earl, who took over in 1924, further promoted the tourist business, pushing visitors to a peak in 1930 of over 80,000.  Even during the war years, there were over 10,000 visitors in 1943-44, and numbers had recovered to their pre-war peak by 1949-50.

All this increasingly showed that the wider estate, for all its charms – landscaped by Capability Brown in 1747 and much admired by Horace Walpole, it was considered secondary to the primary purpose of the enterprise; to get people into the castle. When the 8th Earl decided to abandon Warwick Castle once and for all in 1978, selling it to the Madame Tussauds group which underlined just how much a tourist attraction it had become, the estate was included but farmed by tenant farmers leaving the grounds as a mere sideshow.  The 679-acres now under offer (guide price: £3m) is the bulk of the estate bar a few acres around the castle.  Land and house have been separated as assets and are unlikely to be reunited. This leaves a house without control of the setting which, although sidelined, has been an important part of what made it into such a popular tourist attraction, and leaving fans of our country houses sad that another has been split up in this way.

Property details: ‘Warwick Castle Park, Warwickshire‘ [John Shepherd]

For more history on country house tourism I can strongly recommend ‘The Fall and Rise of the Stately Home’ by Peter Mandler which proved very useful in relation to this article.

Developer shows sense; Ruperra Castle for sale

Ruperra Castle, Newport, Wales (Image: Savills)
Ruperra Castle, Newport, Wales (Image: Savills)

Run-down or derelict country houses are often an enticing prospect for a developer, especially where the house still retains some land, on which they can propose ‘enabling development’.  In theory this is the correct use of this exemption but frequently the developer will suggest too many houses or ignore the fact that the house has too little land to avoid any development compromising the setting of the house.  When this happens, it is often the house which suffers as the developers wait for appeals or a change in policy whilst allowing the house to deteriorate further.  So in the case of Ruperra Castle in Wales it’s encouraging that the owner has decided to bow out giving someone else the chance to restore this architecturally interesting house.

Ruperra is an early example of the ‘mock’ castles which became fashionable in the Elizabethan and Stuart eras and were an example of life imitating art as the idea of these houses drew from the ‘pageant castles’ as featured in court entertainment of the time.  These stage castles formed the centrepiece to the royal ‘masques’ and were laden with allegorical symbolism as they might be populated by damsels (signifying virtue) but successfully defended against attacking knights (signifying baser desires).  Works such as Edmund Spenser’s The Faerie Queen (published in 1590 and 1596) also fed a fashion for chivalry and heraldic forms. Importantly, the long period of domestic peace during Elizabeth’s reign meant that the design of houses moved from being primarily military and defensive to more simply domestic with the look of a house increasingly dictated by aesthetics.

Ruperra wasn’t quite the first of it’s type; that distinction could be said to be held by houses such as Michaelgrove in Sussex built for the Shelley family in 1536 (dem. 1830s), and Mount Edgcumbe in Devon, built between 1547 – 1554, which also were not fortresses and featured a square or rectangular central block with drum or square towers on each corner.  This was followed by the fabulous Wollaton Hall in Nottinghamshire, begun in 1580, which was an altogether more grandiose statement of power but broadly followed the same layout – as did Hardwick Hall, although in an adapted form. However, the Renaissance ornamentation of Robert Smythson‘s design at Wollaton contrasted dramatically with more austere designs of the true ‘mock’ castles which harked back to the earlier simplicity of decorated castles such as Herstmonceaux Castle in Sussex, begun in 1440, with its many windows and regularised defensive elements (such as the arrow loops) making them almost decorative.

Lulworth Castle, Dorset (Image: Matthew Beckett)
Lulworth Castle, Dorset (Image: Matthew Beckett)

The design for Ruperra Castle was clearly based on that for Lulworth Castle, just 100 miles away in Dorset, and built between 1603-05.  Always called a ‘castle’ but built with the instruction from Lord Howard of Bindon that it ‘prove pretty’, it was never military.  Indeed, Thomas Gerard writing in 1630 described it as ‘well seated for prospect and pleasure; but of little other use’. Bought by the Weld family from Lord Howard it remained their family seat until a devastating fire in 1929 completely gutted the interior – as it remains today, although the building itself has been restored.  Another house thought to have been built around 1612 is Compton Bassett House in Wiltshire (dem. c1929) which clearly shared a similar layout although the corner turrents were square.

The builder of Ruperra Castle was Thomas Morgan (b.1564 – d.1632), who made his fortune as the Steward for the Earls of Pembroke at Wilton House, Wiltshire.  Morgan would have been regularly exposed to court life and would have been very aware of the latest architectural fashions.  Hence when he came to build his own house, which was finished in 1626, he deliberately drew on the latest architectural fashions and created one of the first of the ‘modern’ country houses.  The layout was a significant departure as the rooms were orientated to the outside to make the most of views – hence Ruperra’s elevated site chosen for its beauty rather than defensibility.  Interestingly the ‘castle’ design seemed to fall quite quickly from favour and so there are few other examples of this type – though one late example was Beaurepaire Park in Hampshire built in 1777 (sadly burnt down in 1942).

Ruperra Castle remained as part of the Morgan’s vast Tredegar estate and was traditionally used to house the eldest son before he inherited Tredegar House, the family’s principal seat.  The castle originally had dormers but these were removed during the rebuilding after a fire in 1785 and replaced with the crenellations there today.  It was last inhabited during World War II when a searchlight battery requisitioned it and they were there when the terrible fire caused by faulty wiring broke out in 1941.  Despite best efforts, the house was completely gutted and was eventually sold, along with the rest of the 52,000-acre Tredegar estate in 1952.

Since then, constant promises of restoration have come to nothing and it has steadily deteriorated, most dramatically when, in 1982, the south east tower largely collapsed.  Sold to the current vendor, Mr Ashraf Barakat, in 1998 he had hoped to convert the house into 11 flats and build 18 more houses in the 14-acre grounds that remained with the house.  After a final rejection at a public enquiry in 2009, Mr Barakat has now, wisely, put the still grade-II* listed Ruperra Castle on the market for £1.5m, rather than holding on and letting the house deteriorate further.  This should not be considered a development opportunity, so hopefully now someone with deep pockets will come forward to restore, as a single family house, this architecturally important building.  Its rescue would once again connect the modern history of country house design in Wales, bringing life back to a house which, when it was built, was the most sophisticated in the country.

Property details: ‘Ruperra Castle, Lower Machen, Gwent, Wales‘ [Savills]

More on this story:

More information:

Credit: I’m indebted to the prior work of Mark Girouard (‘Elizabethan Architecture‘ 2009) and the late Andor Gomme for their knowledge of Elizabethan architecture.

For the polo enthusiast; for sale – Cowdray Park House, Sussex

Cowdray Park House, West Sussex (Image: Knight Frank)
Cowdray Park House, West Sussex (Image: Knight Frank)

Despite a house having been in the family for over a hundred years, sometimes it can seem the most rational choice to sell.  For the current Lord Cowdray, the idea that he might saddle his heir with what he considers a burden has led to his decision to put the impressive Cowdray Park House up for sale.

If you mention Cowdray often the first house which springs to mind are the atmospheric ruins which are all that are left of one of the grandest Tudor houses in the country.  The fire in September 1793 destroyed not only a large part of the house but also many priceless and historically important artefacts including William the Conqueror’s sword and also the roll-call of those present at the Battle of Hastings.   Just two weeks after the fire the 8th Viscount Montague drowned whilst swimming in the Rhine, forcing the title to a distant descendent of the the 2nd Viscount, who died childless, extinguishing the Viscountancy.

The tragedies continued – the 8th Viscount’s sister inherited but both her sons died whilst swimming off Bognor in 1815.  The three daughters who then inherited in 1840 eventually decided to sell and it was bought by the 6th Earl of Egmont for £300,000.  The current Cowdray Park House dates from 1878 when the 7th Earl, who had inherited the estate in 1874, massively enlarged the Keeper’s Lodge to create the house we see today.  A large rambling, but very picturesque creation, it obviously has taken its cues from houses such a Knole and Penhurst with their varied rooflines and many courtyards.  The grounds had been previously landscaped by Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown between 1768 and 1774 with the ornamental gardens laid out in the early 18th-century.

The house was bought in 1908 by Sir Weetman Pearson who was created Viscount Cowdray in 1917.  Sir Weetman was a brilliant engineer who not only built the Blackwall Tunnel under the Thames but also had extensive oil interests in Mexico.  The house then passed through the Pearson family with few changes until the 3rd Viscount, in pursuit of his passion for polo, created one of the premier polo grounds in the country within the 16,500-acre estate.

Yet being a titled aristocrat living in a 16-bedroomed, 44,000 sq ft house in the middle of a fine estate proved to not be what the current Viscount hoped for after he inherited in 1995.  In May 2009 it was announced that he and his wife and son were to move out of the main house and into a smaller house on the estate, Fernhurst, where they had lived before inheriting.  The 2009 plan involved finding someone to take a long lease and create a hotel and spa in the house but the wider economic circumstances have forced this plan to be abandoned.    Unwilling to continue managing such a large house, with all the attendant issues with staffing and maintenance, the Viscount has decided to sell, putting it on the market, with 110-acres, for £25m, whilst retaining the rest of the estate including the world-famous polo grounds.  Renting the house out, he says, would just be delaying the decision.

Speaking to the Sunday Times in 2009 when he announced his plans, Viscount Cowdray admitted that “I’m not the sort of person who feels hugely attached to things, and it’s a big house.” and later speaking to the Observer that same year he said “I have worried whether I will be leaving Perry a wonderful asset or a noose around his neck. I fear it is likely to be the latter,”.

Whilst the arguments put by the Viscount seem rational it does seem a shame to divorce the house from the estate.  The Cowdray estate has long adapted to changing circumstances but to dismember it seems to be a short-term solution which his son may, with hindsight, regret when he comes to take over, as it leaves one of the most significant estates in Sussex without a principal house.

*Update* Remarkably, Cowdray Park House is unlisted so any buyer has the opportunity to make any changes they wish – and I’m willing to bet they won’t be good.  Knight Frank are touting this as a benefit but perhaps representations ought to be made to Chichester District Council to nominate it for listing using this form.

More details: ‘Cowdray Park House on sale for £25m‘ [Chichester Observer]

Property details: ‘Cowdray Park House, West Sussex‘ [Knight Frank]

The Cowdray Estate