“The Newt in Somerset” – January

Tags

Cyder, Hadspen HOuse, Hobhouse, Karen Roos, Koos Bekker, Museum of Gardening, Newt in Somerset, red deer, Stourhead, Tony Irons Cacti

Last November/October, when my friend Mary came down from London for the day, we had planned to visit The Newt in Somerset, but the weather was so appalling that we went to the Haynes International Motor Museum instead, and a fine time we had there too. This Sunday, the forecast being reasonable, I decided to try again, and take advantage of a promotion whereby I could get a year’s pass for the price of one entry.

Hadspen House (back history here, but not updated since 2007) was the home of the Hobhouse family from 1785 until recently. In 2013, South African billionaire, Koos Bekker and his wife Karen Roos bought the place, including its very extensive grounds, and reportedly spent £50 million pounds on refurbishing it. The complex now comprises a hotel (£350 B and B a night) the Gardens, a small farm, and a cyder (sic) plant. (The Newt’s website does not give the story of the conversion as such, but its The Press gives links to many articles, the most informative, in my view, being those of the Telegraph and the Financial Times. The other accounts seem destined more at those, including the international market, who might be interested in staying at the hotel.)

Having bought my ticket near the car park,

I was directed to the Threshing Barn for further information and the ticket’s conversion into ‘membership’. I saw a modern building, but am now confused as to whether this has just been modernised out of all recognition, or is indeed brand new. The same goes for some of the other buildings.

Looking back at Cyder Cellar, Cyder Bar, Threshing Barn, Shop

Coffee was the first requirement, being served in the Greenhouse, it being too chilly for the Cyder Bar to be open.

When I saw this, I was reminded of an idea I had had of putting together a bowl of cacti and succulents to go on my front and very sunny window ledge. I have realised that very thing today, with the help of a grower living near Bristol. I hope the tiny plants do not grow this big!

Over coffee I looked at the plan, and decided to look at the gardens, nearby, before lunch, then take a walk in the more extensive grounds afterwards.

But first a peek at the Mushroom room.

Began my stroll.

Cottage garden

Through to the Victorian Fragrance Garden

Apparently the squirts of water from fish to toad are set off by movement sensors. I didn’t know this, and nearly got a shower on my calf from a small toadlet on a stone by my left ankle as I moved off! So that’s what the blurb meant by, ‘be[ing] careful not to approach the Giant Toad and her children: they have vile tempers!’

Over to the Colour Garden, to be explored at a more colourful time

Hadspen House, via the Long Walk

The Kitchen Garden in January

Interesting to see Aponogeton (water hawthorn) in bloom. Mine hasn’t shown the slightest leaf yet.

And a water lily thinking about waking up.

There were many labels around the place, always in English, sometimes accompanied by translations into what seemed like random other languages.

Dog kennels turned chicken house

For all their splendour, tiny bantams both

The Garden Café, see through a corner of the Parabola, which contains most of the 500-odd apple varieties grown on the estate.

A few counties were set in stone. Good to see my own, Middlesex, which disappeared in the London government reorganisation of 1965.

Time for lunch. All the dishes, whether vegetarian or not, are named for one of the vegetables grown in the gardens. I had ‘Kale’.

And two kinds of bread and two kinds of butter

The view, through glass, from my seat. Far too cold to eat outside.

I finished with jasmine tea.

A heavy shower followed my lunch, and I thought I would soon be headed home, especially as every gate out to the parkland I had seen in the morning had been locked, and displayed a notice, ‘Parkland walks will be opening in the summer.’ But the rain stopped quickly and I found that a walk into the deer park, near the café, was open.

I soon came to this. Despite appearances to the contrary, the supports are firmly planted in the ground.

At the end of the walkway came this.

To begin with I thought, enviously, that it might be someone’s home. The building was on the plan, but without a label. A young employee emerged, so I asked him. It was the just-opened Museum of Gardening. And here was its door, just round the corner.

The young man asked if I’d seen the deer. I’d forgotten I might. He said I was unlikely now, as they would have departed way over there from their morning hangout near here.

The Museum is to be investigated another time. I went on.

The ball had hundreds of holes drilled, for bees I imagine.

Beyond here was a big gate, with some machinery beyond. I wasn’t sure that I was allowed, or indeed wanted to go on this time. A woman, of about my own age, was approaching from the other side. Did I want to come through? She could let me. I said I was not sure, was thinking of turning round at this point anyway. We chatted, as she clearly knew a lot about the estate. She also asked if I’d seen the deer. There were two herds, red and fallow, the latter very shy indeed. I was bold in my questioning, and found that she was a Hobhouse. My departing ‘Really lovely to have met you’ was heartfelt!

WAY over on the horizon is King Alfred’s Tower, part of the Stourhead estate.

Nearly back at the beginning of my walk, I saw this. On the way out I had assumed it was a bit of fencing due to be placed somewhere. But I now realised it was the top of the Museum of Gardening, a safety precaution!

Evidence I was in a deer park

I looked up, and was surprised to see these does springing up the bank.

They were joined by a buck.

And then by a big buck!

Who wanted me to see his antlers in all their glory!

I took a slightly different route, through some woodland, back to the courtyard.

The Marl Pit

The Cyder Cellar was not open, but I looked in.

The farm shop definitely was open, and I bought bread, tomatoes and beans.

I shall be returning before long, and plan to follow the gardens and grounds through the seasons. Next time I will get there by 10.30, so that I can do the Garden tour, and have some more questions answered. Another time I will do the Cyder tour.

Twixtmas at Trefeca

Tags

Black Mountains, Coleg Trefeca, commemorative trowel, early music, FFynnongroyw, Howel Harris, Howell Harris, Methodism, Strawberry Hill gothic, Talgarth, Teulu Trefeca, Trefeca, Welsh Methodism

A four-day, three-night house party for early music-making fans, between Christmas and the New Year, has been happening for years and years, I’m told, but this had been the first time I’d heard of it, and this was the first time they allowed someone in who only sang, with no other string to her bow, as it were.

To quote Wikipedia, “Trefeca (also Trefecca, Trevecca, and Trevecka), located between Talgarth and Llangorse Lake in what is now south Powys in Wales, was the birthplace and home of the 18th-century Methodist leader Howel Harris (English: Howell Harris). It was also the site of two Calvinistic Methodist colleges at different times; the first sponsored by the Countess of Huntingdon (an English methodist leader) in the late eighteenth century; the second supported by the Welsh Calvinistic Methodist Connexion in the later nineteenth century.” Coleg Trefeca is now the conference centre and retreat house of the Presbyterian Church of Wales, with 14 twin-bedded rooms and several meeting rooms of various sizes. It is a Grade II listed building, and includes the Howell Harris Museum. It welcomes not only religious groups – evidently.

I arrived with a friend in her car (mine would not have taken all her many viols) late afternoon on the 27th, and found that some, after a quick cup of tea, were already planning to make music. We waited until the first official session after dinner, and I sang at that session with five viol players. I was not really intending to take photos during the stay, so have no photograph of that group as I was not with it again.

But my camera finger got itchy the next day, when I realised just how many interesting things there were around the place. First to catch my eye was this clock.

and its explanation, which, as with every other label, was also given in Welsh.

… though it stood at 11.40 throughout our stay.

Behind it was a display cabinet.

including these objects:

Baptismal bowl, presented in 1901

When I saw these cups I thought they were pure 1960s, but they’re 18th century.

“Scissors and keys owned by the tailor and novelist Daniel Owen, (1836-95) of Mold, who depicted Methodist life in his works”

We occupied the place fully. So manifestations of our own lives were all around.

Three viols in their cases, and a cushion

An unlit showcase in another room included these:

“It was the custom in the late 19th and early 20th centuries to present a commemorative silver trowel and sometimes a gavel to those who laid foundation stones of chapels. Seen here are some examples.”

“Chopsticks presented to John Ellis Jones (1875-1968) of Ffynnongroyw by Miss S. A. Jones of the China Inland Mission”

When I walked into the library during this free/informal playing time, I was inveigled into singing one verse of the piece they were playing (it had optional words) in return for being allowed to take their photo.

The dining room and part of the kitchen. Very good food was served, with no tempting cooked breakfasts, and light lunches. Just right.

Also found around the place were carriers for wind instruments and bags of music.

The weather did not tempt me outside on day two, so this was taken through glass.

Beverage station. The excellent and cost-saving system at Trefeca means that, on a rota, we took it in turns to make drinks during the breaks, and to serve and clear up after meals. Many hands, and all that.

I sang with recorders

I just happened to look out of my window at 8 a.m. on day three.

This presaged much nicer weather, and later in the day I was tempted outside.

The Coleg with its twentieth century accommodation block, very recently refurbished.

The ‘Strawberry Hill gothic‘ original buildings

(‘The beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord’, if my schoolgirl Latin is correct.)

They said I must go and find the weather-vane. This is the best angle I could get on it.

This being the setting where you could try things, I asked, to the organiser’s surprise, if I might have a session with the ‘loud wind’ (as against recorders) though I’m told I must now refer to it as ‘renaissance wind’. I took out the loud version of my voice, and I was pleased to say that the general consensus was that it had worked. These loud instruments are banished to the chapel (the small one if I read the Welsh correctly).

Cornett, kirtle, and three sackbuts of various sizes

Just a couple more pictures of items in the house:

From near to far: an eisteddfod chair won by Sarah Jane Rees (1839-1916), peot and temperance advocate; a chair owned by William Williams (1717-91) ‘Wales’s’ foremost hymnwriter’; a blacksmith’s anvil owned by Thomas Lewis (1759- 1842), another hymnwriter, and, furthest, if I remember correctly, a chair owned by Howell Harris himself.

When I first saw this, I was just reminded of the dock in a court, but in fact it is a pulpit, made of oak and wrought iron, used at Trefeca from 1768 to 1791.

As we travelled across the beautiful South Wales countryside on day one it had been smothered in mist and fog. As we returned on the afternoon of day four it was glorious in low sunshine – but of course my camera was in my suitcase.