Knole Castle

Knole Castle; sorry, no interior pix, but there's probably a

website...

Knole Castle was built originally as a palace for the archbishops of Canterbury (the meek shall inherit the earth, etc.) until Henry VIII "persuaded" them to hand it over, c. 1535. Sometime later, it came to the Sackville family, in whose hands it remains, along with the National Trust. In the 17th-18th century, one of the Sackvilles was Lord Chamberlain or somesuch...anyhow, the guy in charge of royal possessions, furniture, etc., who had first call on whatever the monarch did not want. The monarch at the time was William of Orange, who did not want to be reminded of the Stuarts, and so thousands of items of Stuart possessions went to Knole and remain there, now on display. It is, indeed, the largest collection of Stuart stuff there is, and includes some Tudor stuff as well. The three galleries of portraits, pretty much all Tudor and Stuart personages, are incredible, as are all the other royal-quality stuff from the age. The most stunning pieces, however, are the items of silver furniture in the King's apartment. Louis XIV initiated the fashion of having furniture made from silver (not solid, I assume...). All the French pieces eventually were melted down to finance wars, revolutions, 1947 Lafite-Rothschild, chateaubriand, etc. But a few pieces in England survive, and they are on display at Knole. Stunning.

Shoreham: Sex and Violence on the Allotments

The Brits are just endlessly interesting. After Chartwell, we parked over-night at a public carpark in the hamlet of Shoreham, in Kent. There are a few score houses and buildings here, many dating from centuries ago. But there is always plenty to see, learn, and enjoy.

The Brits are all over allotments--community gardens, sort 
of, though more established and legal--and here we saw a 
shocking advert on "sex and violence on the allotments"--
but then remembered the great old Peter Cook routine...
"So I've re-written it a bit. I've given it a new title. I've 
called it, 'Sex and Violence Down the Mine.' And chapter 
one begins with these three nude ladies; Beryl, Stella and

Margaret, and they are completely nude, and they are 
wandering around the desert...Violently."

Shoreham parish church--Norman in shape, but younger, 
the brick work alternating with flint; flint...there must 
have been a paleolithic axe factory nearby

At a Shoreham pub in a building dating from the 16th century 
(another flatly states 1500, AD), a re-creation of the ostler's 
station; the ostler was the guy who cared for your horse while 
you were at the pub; not too many of these left

Beautiful Kent countryside

Chartwell

We had planned on visiting Windsor, but a state visit (or rehearsal for a state visit; we're not sure) changed our plans, and, on another beautiful fall day, we drove east and south to Kent, and Chartwell, the home of Winston Churchill. With my interest in 20th century history, WWII, literature, and so on, it was an important visit for me. I can think of only a few authors of whom I have read more than Churchill (Samuel Eliot Morison; Douglas Southall Freeman...). Churchill wrote some 51 books, supported himself most of his life as a journalist and author, and received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1953. He was elected to Parliament in the early 1900s, had 3 or 4 distinct political careers, and became PM when he was 65.  The house is largely Clemmie's work, I think, and it is a wonderful, real place, not quite a mansion, but beautiful and radiating comfort and grace both inside and out. The exhibits are very good, indeed, although, in fairness, they might include just a bit of stuff on the negative side of Churchill. (I have been amused that none of the Churchill shrine bookstores we have seen have carried Charmley's Churchill and the End of Empire.  I can still quote the NY Times August, 1944, assessment, that he was "a 19th century man fighting a twentieth century war for 18th century purposes." But still a great man, perhaps as great as they get.)

Chartwell, from the garden below

The pool and pond, among many water features leading the eyes to the view 
down the valley to the weald

The fish pond, where Churchill sat and fed his koi

In the larger garden, the Golden Walk, which the children planted with 50 
varieties of yellow rose, on the occasion of the Churchills' 50th anniversary

Part of the wall around the lower garden; from reading Churchill, I had imagined 
something, oh, chest high, and enclosing perhaps 1,000 square feet; rather, it is 
8 feet high and encloses probably 2 acres of vegetable garden, rose garden, 
cutting garden, and so on

He built the wall, "by his own hand," in the years 1925-32, 
when he was in the political wilderness

The studio; Churchill took up painting when he was 41, during the first world 
war; he was quite a serious painter, producing some 500 works in his long 
life-time; anonymously, he won several awards and prizes; the house and 
studio contain scores of his paintings

The inner studio and the unfinished painting

Snowshill and the Cotwolds

Next (this is all Thursday, I think), we drove into the Cotwolds and to Snowshill Manor. Snowshill is something a bit different. Actually, it is quite different. I was going to entitled this post "and now for something completely different."

It is an old manor house, somewhat renovated, but populated by the collections of one Charles Wade, a turn-of-the-century architect, and, if I may, eccentric, who collected hand-made things. He thought of himself as part of the Arts and Crafts movement, but was largely a collector...of anything hand-made, beautiful, in need of a home. The house contains 22,000 such items...cabinets, furniture, armor, swords, china, paintings, ship models, early bicycles, glassware, musical instruments (three hurdy-gurdies and three oboes!), and on and on and on and on. You name it, there's one there. Probably three.

Personally, I think it's important to visit quirky things now and then. England has much to offer in this regard.

After Snowshill, we meandered through the beautiful Cotwolds and then back south toward Windsor, where we stayed overnight  at a quiet farm campground.

Bad apples still life; does it take only one good apple to spoil the bunch?

Snowshill Manor; from the outside, you can only guess what weirdness lurks 
within; and the National Trust does not permit photography

View form the garden; Wade wasn't entirely daft

Free? Can you take just an animal and not a child?

Cotswold house

Another

Main street, Chirping Wonkton on-the-Bum

Rollright Stones

The circle, or "army," about 100 feet in diameter, limestone,

heavily worn

The King

The Knights

With improving weather--actually, the day in Oxford was beautiful--we drove back north toward the Cotswolds, detouring along the so-called Jurassic Way to see another stone circle. The Jurassic Way is another ancient pathway, akin to the Ridgeway further south. The Rollright Stones are quite famous, for the "energy" they are said to generate, the various Druid/witch/New Age festivities they attract, their location on an old thoroughfare, and so on. Actually, in addition to the circle (the "army"), there is an outlying menhir (the "king"), and a fallen dolmen (the "knights"), all several hundred yards apart. Obviously, this was a megalitic center of some sort, but centuries of picking over, plowing, and other rough handling, have obliterated most of it. One can only imagine...

Eagle and Child

The Eagle and Child; or, the Bird and Baby,

as Lewis called it.

The Rabbit Room, where they gathered

Us, there, having a pint (well, half a pint and some OJ)

The famous signatures, commending the

proprietor; Tolkien's at the very bottom

Oxford, 2009

With rain forecast, we decided to forego/postpone the Cotswolds, and drove on to Oxford, camping, as it were in Kidlington, and taking the bus, next day, into town. I have been to Oxford three times, Vicki four or maybe even five, so it is somewhat familiar ground. We did the tour of the Bodleian Library--something Vicki had never managed in her previous visits--walked about the old town and university, and did the two things highest on my list: Blackwell's (bookstore) and the Eagle and Child (pub), where the "Inklings," C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and others met Tuesday mornings for a couple of decades for readings, discussion, and pints. Oxford's a glorious place, even to outsiders. That evening, we watched Shadowlands, just for reinforcement. Anthony Hopkins is incredible.


Bodleian court

Metaphysician, heal thyself; I am quite sure we have pix

(35mm) of me in roughly this pose, and exactly this place,

from 1979, 1989, and 1998

Hall at Bodleian; note fan vaulting; I understand some of

the Harry Poppins series was shot here

The Ashmolean was closed for renovations

Evidently, they punt here too, just as in upstart Cambridge

Magdalen College

All Souls

Sheldonian Theatre

Radcliffe Camera

Lincoln College

Vicki adds:

Oxford, England October 21, 2009

We had a wonderful day in Oxford today with temps in the 50s and some sun. The place was very busy even when not tourist season because, of course, all the students are there. We went on the tour of the Bodelian Library, which was very exciting for me since this is my fourth trip to Oxford and the library has always been closed before for special events. Our guide was an elderly, very British chap who bored everyone to death but me. The introductory lecture before the tour lasted about 25 minutes, followed by a 35 minute tour! The gift shop had some wonderful new things (it had been open in the past and I had availed myself of it.) Unfortunately, what I decided I wanted was the "Silence Please" jug but they sold their last one yesterday! Oh well.

Then we went to 4 used book stores and bought about 10 books--which we should not have as our camper is already overweight. Mark and I are not very good at resisting books, even with the e-book. We have been completely spoiled by UK--being able to buy books, read directions on food packages, read the labels in the museums, ask directions (lost 3 times today in Oxford, etc. If it wasn't getting so cold, we would definitely stay longer. As it is we are changing the next couple of weeks around. We had planned to go from Oxford over to the southwest, then back through the middle south, a week or so in London, and then finish in the southeast. However, the National Trust closes almost all its properties on Nov. 1 for the winter. There are 3-4, including Churchill's home, that we don't want to miss, so tomorrow we are driving straight around London to the south and southeast. Then we will double back to the southwest and finish in London in November.

Blenheim, 2009

France and England were at war constantly, more or less, from the 14th century to nearly the 20th. The War of Spanish Succession was the early 18th century episode, when Louis XIV overplayed his hand by trying to grab both Spain (no heir to throne) and the Austro-Hungarian empire, and all the overseas trade. The Brits stepped in along with their northern European allies, and defeated Louis' armies at a place called Blindheim. The man of the hour was 54 year old John Churchill, a public servant mainly, whom Queen Anne had placed in charge of her armies. Churchill's administrative skill translated into military skill, and the Queen's armies were victorious. As a later Churchill observed, it was from this point that Britain stepped onto the world stage as a major player. Anyhow, the Queen rewarded the elder Churchill with lands and a hefty stipend and the title Duke of Marlborough. His wife was one of the Queen's confidants, it so happens, too. Anyhow, Blenheim Palace (Blinnum, the Brits say) is the result.

We toured Blenheim--truly a palace and, originally, a monument to one man--on a cold and rainy Tuesday. It terms of scale and opulence, it is quite the best we have seen so far. No interior pix, as usual, except one displayed above. Despite the wet and cold, we walked the grounds and gardens too.

Winston Churchill was born at Blenheim, and some of his formative early years were spent there. His father, Lord Randolph, was younger brother to the then Duke. Moreover, it was at Blenheim, in the Temple of Diana, that Churchill proposed marriage to Clementine Ogilvy. Consequently, Blenheim is in part a monument to Sir Winston too. He and Clementine are buried in a simple parish churchyard a mile or so from the palace.

We drove on to Kidlington, 4 miles north of Oxford, and parked for two nights on a quiet town square, just across from the Sainsbury's.

Marlborough's Victory Column

Front view of Blenheim

View from upper garden

Capability Brown waterfall

View from grounds

Room in which Winston Churchill was born

Bucket brigade

Great old trees on the grounds

Grave of Winston Spencer and Clementine

Spencer Churchill

Charlecote Park

Charlecote Park is another manor/fortified residence, dating

from the 15th century. Elizabeth stayed here two nights on

her return from her last visit to Kenilworth. But Charlecote

is perhaps more famous for 1) being Capability Brown's

first landscaping job, and 2) the site where, centuries

earlier, a young Will Shakespeare was caught poaching

and punished by the great lord. All this according to lore.

Will had his revenge in both Henry IV part 2 and in the

Merry Wives of Windsor. Power of the pen.

View of "new" wing from the garden

The River Avon, altered slightly to improve the view and to

add a waterfall; Nature was apparently never good enough

for Culpability Brown; in the distance, by the river, you

can see several deer, presumably descendants of those

poached by Master Shakespeare

Childrens' playhouse, beautiful thatching, wood-work,

paneling, stone hearth, etc. Let them eat cakes.