30 July 2016 - Buxton Caravan Club Site, Derbyshire

What a difference the sunshine makes! Even the jackdaws rising from the cliffs early in the morning sounded more joyful in greeting the day. Jet trails criss-crossed the skies and Derbyshire was indeed one of the loveliest counties of our travels in England so far, just as Margie had been telling us.

We packed our lunch in the eski, headed off to Peaks Leisure, the caravan and camping  store on the north east edge of town we had discovered a few days ago when we were looking out for television aerial fittings. Today we were after a replacement magnetic catch for one of the kitchen cupboards that had broken off. The shop was able to supply us with a fitting that should do the trick, and then we were off along the A6, eastwards toward our destination for the day; the grand estate of Chatsworth. 

The route across the countryside, mostly following the Wye River, part of the road descending steeply down toward Bakewell was just so lovely in the morning sunshine. We turned north east before reaching that town, cutting across to Chatsworth which is quite some distance up roads that pass through land and villages belonging to the estate. 

Scenes of Chatworth

We had been saving this particular outing for a full day of good weather, knowing that we would not be able to enjoy discounts for age concession, or membership to the National Trust or English Heritage. Chatsworth is owned by a charitable trust, but for all intents and purposes to the normal tourist, is a private commercial venture, and as such, you will pay every step of the way. To be honest, I did not come away feeling as fleeced as I expected; we paid £4 for our parking, £19.90 each for entry to the house and garden, and a further £3 each for audio guides, which we have discovered really do enhance one’s experience.

You would recognise Chatsworth if you saw the regular postcard view of the house, even if the name means little, however today we were to discover that the property has been undergoing various waterproofing works since 2006, including the replacement of blocks where necessary and repair of the roof, all at massive expense. Worst for the tourist, this means that most of the house is sheathed in plastic and scaffolding and the wonders of the exterior have to be imagined rather than seen by the naked eye.

According to the introductory guide, the work will be completed in 2017; this of little use to us. When we mentioned that this must be a very expensive process, the guide gave us one example of the frustrations to be dealt with. The stone must be replaced like with like, which in theory should be a simple matter, the estate still owning the quarry whence the stone was originally quarried. But now with all the regulations, heritage, health and safety, council permits et cetera, the stone must be cut by hand in the quarry, and carted by hand to the transport at the top of the quarry, when this could be so simply be done without the nonsensical regulations with mechanised efficiency. The stone is then delivered to the house and if not an exact match, be discarded and the process repeated, after seeking another permit to do so. With each stone requiring the same bureaucratic process, it is a lengthy and expensive business. 

We arrived at the house half an hour before opening and joined the queues of visitors, escaping for quarter of an hour to enjoy the excellent “history of the house in a nutshell”. Then we spent a couple of hours filing through the splendour with hundreds and hundreds of others. It is indeed a very popular place and certainly well worth a visit and putting up with the crowds.

After lunch we spent a further two hours wandering about the wonderfully extensive gardens, originally a formal affair, later subject to the “destructive” hands of the famous Capability Brown between 1758 and 1766. After the River Derwent was remodelled and massive earthmoving completed, trees planted and formal ponds and lakes drained to fit with the “natural” look, the gardens were formed into the great parks they are today.

Chatsworth is one of Britain’s finest homes, built in the seventeenth century in its original form by Bess of Hardwick, whom we met some weeks ago at Hardwick Mansion. It has remained in the Cavendish family ever since although like most of these stately mansions, undergone restructure and metamorphosis over the centuries. 

The biggest change makers were the 1^st Duke, the 4^th and the 6^th Dukes of Devonshire. The last of these was a bachelor, whose passion of entertaining in grand style required him to build a wing that was as large as the whole residence before the addition. He was also a grand tourer, collector or scavenger of treasures from further afield, and it was he who added the Sculpture Gallery to display all the booty collected over the years.

Like all families there are some fascinating tales to be told, and if I were to recount them all here, there would be little reason to call before the plastic wrapping comes off. One that did tickle my fancy was that of this 6^th Duke’s parents who lived rather publically in a ménage-a-trois arrangement, the 5^th Duke finally marrying his mistress when his first wife died. But oh, there is more, so much more to this story!

When the current Duke inherited the property rather unexpectedly in the 1950s, it was he and his wife who restored the property to its heyday and opened it up for the public. These days there is a farm shop, holiday rentals on site, venues available for weddings and like occasions, and all manner of other commercial ventures.

The house is full of extravagant furnishings, artworks and decorations, fabulously ornate ceilings in the state apartments built for royal visits that never happened, treasures and rooms that take your breath away. The Devonshires still live in the place although are tucked away in their own corner for the most part. Given that it is open seven days a week for most of the year, I do wonder how much time they actually have to enjoy the rooms that are open to view during the daytime.

There are a further two generations “in waiting’ for the title and the burden of this fabulous estate. I think I would abdicate and hand the whole thing over to The People if I were to inherit the property; surely it is such a burdensome responsibility to be guardian of heritage properties like these? 

The author's husband helping the organ grinder

By the time we left, guests were gathering in the Stable restaurant for a wedding, and as we wended our way out the narrow access road we passed firstly the car bearing three bridesmaids, soon followed by another with the bride and her father or whoever was to “give her away”. Chatsworth would make for a fabulous wedding venue, although I would want the plebs to be long gone if it were my nuptials taking place.

The sun was still shining as we drove up into the Grin Low Country Park. The sheep who had refused to move off the tarmac as we drove out this morning were nowhere to be seen. Inside the camp entry, the Fish’n Chip caravan was already set up for the Saturday night special. Soon we were unpacked, salad made and Chris returning to our own van with a package of our own fish and chips; an excellent finish to an excellent day.