24 June 2016 - Knight’s Folly Farm, Bitton, near Bristol, Gloucestershire

We sat up late last night, absurdly late, to the point I was nodding off and the first of the refendum results were still to be reported. It was after midnight we relented and went to bed. The media had better stamina, staying up all night and looking better than we did when we woke this morning before 7 am to learn that the British had voted to leave the EU.We were disappointed, even though we have no business to be.

There will be turbulant times ahead, not least because the Prime Minister, David Cameron, has given notice, which could then lead to an early election, a second referendum for Scottish Independence, a call from the right in both France and the Netherlands to follow Britain’s example, and goodness knows what else. On an even more personal level, I suspect that the proceeds of the eventual sale of our caravan and car will be negatively effected by the damage to the currency exchange rates.

We finally tore ourselves away from the commentary by mid-morning and headed for Dyrham Park, about eight miles north east of Bitton. We knew little about this National Trust property apart from the fact it was near, it offered gentle entertainment for the exhausted and the weather looked as if it would be more dry than wet.

It was therefore quite a surprise to arrive and find the carpark quite full; the park was obviously a popular spot. We flashed our membership cards and then set off on foot down the grassy tree dotted slopes toward the house, an easy walk of three quarters of a mile. Deer grazed on the far slopes and soon the house appeared in front of us.

We joined a conservation tour which took us up to the fifth floor of the house, through rooms crammed with boxed and labelled furniture and household effects. The problems of conserving such objects as well as the structure itself were explained to us; the dichotomy of preserving historical places for the future and from further decay, and the need to show it all off to the paying public to raise funds to provide for the conservation.

One of the volunteers told us how last year the house was encased in scaffolding so that the leaking roof could be replaced. This was part of an urgently needed £3.8 million conservation project, during which time the house was able to be kept open throughout, with a fully accessible rooftop walk in the scaffolding leading to a record breaking year for the Park. More than 200,000 people visited Dyrham Park in 2015, the highest number of visitors ever, with 100,000 visiting the rooftop walkway, to watch the 160 stonemasons, slaters, lead workers, carpenters and scaffolders. It took five scaffolders three months to build the 500 tonne structure to enable workers to replace the roof, and the same time to dismantle it; no wonder it was such an expensive project. The building work had the reverse effect of what had been feared; entry fees proved to be even more of a much needed income source than budgeted.

A tour of the house informed us that it had been planned and built by William Blathwayt, a respected government, military and colonial official, between 1692 and 1702. He drew on his extensive network of friends and associates across the world to source the finest materials for his dream home, much like you see on Grand Designs these days. Roofing slate came from Cornwall, black walnut wood from Virginia, red cedar from Carolina, oak wood from Flanders, deal wood from Stockholm and Carrera marble from Italy. 

The building was actually alteration and extension of an existing Tudor house, half of it demolished for the new work to start. In 1688, the father of William’s wealthy heiress wife, Mary Wynter, died and the Blathways took over the property, then in very poor condition. 

Biographical details of William were scant, as was information regarding the house after William finished his days. We did learn that he served Charles II, James II, William and Mary, and Queen Anne and stood out as one of the most able government administrators of his day. He managed to successfully fulfil the exacting demands of many high profile roles, from surveying and auditing the colonies to Secretary at War, member of the Board of Trade to MP for Bath, at the same time, over many years. Much of that was probably achieved because his wife sadly died before the house construction was begun, and hence he would not have had to worry about his family and social obligations. His sons lived in apartments at the top of the house and were probably left to the care of servants. But I am guessing; there was nothing to suggest whether this was correct, or not.

Dyrham Park

The “building” work included landscaping work, elaborate formal gardens which time did away with. Today the National Trust is attempting to reconstruct the gardens as they were then. The gardens had been very impressive, as shown by many drawings hanging in the house.

Unlike many of the fabulous stately homes we have visited during our travels here in England, this lacked the wow factor. They have been in Trust ownership for over fifty years, and yet if we had learned that they had just been taken over after fifty of more years of neglect, we would have believed it. The brochure we were handed welcomed us “to Dyrham Park as work continues to research, conserve and celebrate the 17^th century world of William Blathwayt”. This seems to confirm that this is some kind of conservation experiment rather than a finished product ready for the public view.

While we were indoors, the rain returned, in bucket loads, and when we finally emerged at 1.30, we decided to hitch a ride on the shuttle bus to the top of the hill to retrieve our lunch. Refuelled, we decided that the rain looked set in, so we came away, returning home to roast a turkey leg and an assortment of vegetables, purchased on the route home. Dinner was delicious.