The Vyne

Our next stop was another National Trust home and garden estate, the Vyne. The house and grounds and family areas are fine, but I think the Vyne has over-played its putative Tolkien connection. A "mysterious" 4th century Roman gold ring was found there, with an inscription, and it has been suggested that this was the inspiration for Tolkien's rings. Nevermind that Roman jewelry is found all over England, and the Roman world, nor that a magic golden ring that makes you invisible goes back Hesiod, nor that such a ring was a major part of art and high culture throughout Europe throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Kindly Professor T might have heard of such things. The Vyne plays it all to the hilt, nonetheless. The Tolkiens have disavowed any such connection and the Tolkien Society is "working" with the Vyne on "researching" the issue. All this is beneath the dignity of the National Trust, I think. But the playground, which is why we went, is pretty good.

Tolkienesque map of the Vyne; let's see, the Misty Mountains have got to be
in there somewhere...

Lots of National Trust sites have twig tunnels for the kiddies, but only the Vyne
has Smaug

In the gardens

The house

Great staircase

Library

Kneller's portrait of John Locke

Beautiful great hall

"...and in the darkness bind them!"

Grounds

Shelob?

In the "Hidden Realm" play area, where a hill and tunnels are made to look like
Hobbiton; here is Penelope helping other, older children in mud mound building;
she has at this point commandeered the shovel; it amazed me how willing she was
to approach and interact with older kids

Shimmering Lake: do not disturb the water...

Jane Austen House

After Nunney, we thought we might drive further west to Wells and its wonderful cathedral. But time was running out and it was a long way back to our next set of destinations, so we turned back east. The next morning we visited Jane Austen's house in Chawton. Rebecca teaches Austen, so this was a must-see. Vicki has read lots of Austen and seen the movies. I read J. L. Austin's essay Sense and Sensibilia in graduate school, but I don't think it counts. Anyhow, while Rebecca and Vicki toured the house, Penelope and I happily walked along the High Street, visited a community pre-school, watched some horses, some sheep, some birds, sat at the bus stop and played with a stick and crab apple she had picked up ("the best toys are found, not bought," a nearby gentleman observed), then passed more of the morning in Jane Austen's garden, in the company of several other males not doing the tour.

On the Jane Austen Trail

Official plaque

The house; nice house; nice garden too

The pub across the street, where she did some of her best
writing (nyuk, nyuk)

Rebecca in the dress-up room

Nunney Castle

Nunney Castle was built in the 1370s by one John de la Mare, who, I suspect, made his fortune like so many other good Englishmen of the 14th century, plundering France. It is more properly regarded as a fortified residence. In any case, it was purchased in the 1560s by Richard Prater, a London merchant, from whom, via Uncle Charlie McCoy's genealogical researches, Vicki claims descent. (The Praters, I understand, came over with William I in 1066; Prater is actually an old Roman name.) They successfully defended Nunney against the Parliamentarians, but not from their cannons, which later wrecked the place. We visited Nunney Castle in 1989, and made a great photo of Vicki and the girls. It is the family castle, so to speak, and both Vicki and Rebecca wanted to have another photo opp there, three generations, with Penelope.

The 1989 photo...Rebecca, Vicki, and
Rachel at Nunney Castle

In Nunney's parish church. John de la Mare by the window and Richard Prater
and his [unnamed] wife

It's a pretty little village

Nunney Castle, 2013

Three generations of Prater descendants at Nunney

"Now can I take this stupid princess thing off?!"

Part of the castle interior

Detail

Another shot

And another

Longleat Adventure And Safari Park

Our plan, throughout these two weeks with Penelope, was to stay in Caravan Club campgrounds (we are members). No wild-camping with The Precious. The next such stop was at Longleat, once a great house, and now a great house and adventure/safari resort. We had the four of us visited Longleat back in 1989, before it was Disneyfied. My chief memories were of the Maze and the pet cemetery, both of which are still there. But they are joined now by the Monkey Temple, the Jungle Cruise, the Hippo Mud Baths, Stingray Bay, Gorilla Island, Adventure Castle, and of course the Safari. Fortunately, Penelope is too young for any of this, and we arrived after closing anyway. But she did enjoy playing in the water park and later feeding the deer. And we could hear the seals barking well into the night.

The resort complex

Adventure Castle

Absolutely the largest childrens' RR I have seen; even a
round-house

Ticket complex and asphalt maze

Happily, the great house is still there, in case anyone is
interested

Nice one, too

Pet cemetery; well, half of it

Historical touch

Thus

Back to reality, however

At Longleat, Penelope demonstrates proper two-year-old
form for eating a peanut butter sandwich

Avebury Again, 2013

Our next major destination was Nunney Castle, near Frome, but Avebury is one of Rebecca's favorite places, as well as the Henge Shoppe, so we stopped there on the way.

While Mama shopped, P and I explored some
of the big rocks

And then we all had lunch at the Red Lion

And were entertained by the local dancing talent

Thus; with sticks, no less

Blenheim Palace, 2013; Meeting With The 11th Duke Of Marlborough

Rebecca wanted to see a few of the great houses, and there are few, if any, greater than Blenheim. Vicki and I had visited it in 2009, it was near Oxford, and on the way to our next destination. Plus, there was a special, unforgettable if unforeseeable encounter at the end of the day.

It's pretty special, even as great houses go: Queen Anne's
gift to John Churchill, aka the Duke of Marlborough,
who defeated the forces of Louis XIV in the latter's quest
for domination of the Continent in the early 1700s; at the
Battle of Blenheim; alas, the War of the Spanish Succession
isn't much featured in American textbooks; another famous
Churchill was born in the Palace years later (see my 2009
post for more); grounds by Capability Brown, of
course

The temple where Winston proposed to Clementine

Still life by Winston Churchill

Rebecca and Penelope on the Blenheim train

An Owl butterfly at Blenheim's Butterfly House; largest
butterfly I have ever seen; Blenheim has a very nice and
conventional family area just a train ride from the Palace
itself

Meanwhile, back at the Palace, the entry rotunda

Dining room

One of the State Rooms

Tapestry depicting the French surrender at Blenheim

The Duke of Marlborough's note to the Queen informing her
of the victory and French surrender

Great Hall

In the distance, the great monument to the
first Duke of Marlborough

Now things get interesting; we had pretty much closed the
Palace and gift shoppes and were walking back to the
campground, which is actually on the estate grounds; but
the gate we had entered was now closed; so we headed off
across the grounds in the direction we thought best, aided
by some vague advice from an employee; and got to this
"no pedestrians" exit

When up drives a Range Rover and this
gentlemen, attired in grey slacks and a
light blue sweater (as I recall), hops out
to tell us we can't exit the egress, it's cars
only, too dangerous; we all immediately
recognize him (from photos in the Palace)
as the 87-year-old John George Vanderbilt
Henry Spencer-Churchill, the 11th Duke of
Marlborough; Vicki and Rebecca handled
the conversation, for our part, as I tried
to get a good angle from which to
inconspicuously whip out the camera
and document the "meeting"--I never did;
he finally relented, probably in view of
Penelope and the fact we'd have to
wheel her another couple miles to get
to the "proper" exit; we got out the car
exit OK, and he drove off to another
visitor adventure; and it turned out the
campground was just a couple hundred
feet away; wow! We're still talking about
it...