Cavendish Enterprises

Lucy had been asking for a couple of days if we could go to "that English farm, you know the one in the video from six years ago". After only a small amount of interrogation we established that she meant Chatsworth's children's farm. So we circled our wagons around Tesco, bought sandwiches then headed into the wilds of Derbyshire to give money and tug forelocks (notional forelock in my instance) to the Cavendish family.

Susan had said as we set out, "we're only doing the farm and the garden" but by the time we got there Lucy had made it clear she really wanted to see he house as well. The Cavendish family happily obliged with a "complete estate" pricing that was obviously better value than any other entry package.

I have mixed feelings about the House of Cavendish, one part of me admires the fact that as an old noble family, they have got their business act together to really prosper in the modern age, and make their bit of heritage self supporting; another part just looks at the centuries of very conspicuous consumption and tut-tuts in a half arsed vaguely political fashion.

Lucy had so much fun running around patting shire horses, counting piglets and chicks (not unhatched), then working her way to having fun in one of the best kids' adventure playgrounds around. Susan had to join in as part of her close supervision parenting. Then it was off to the garden.

The valley that Chatsworth is set in was landscaped by Capability Brown, so it is the most perfectly natural looking farm you could imagine, I have fantasies that the Cavendish family has a well paid retainer whose job is to remote control the grouping and movement of the sheep on the hills.

The garden is huge, we spent two hours in it and we saw less than half of it. Sotheby's were setting up for a sculpture auction, so there were interesting large pieces dotted around, including fifteen hares. Lucy spent a lot of time following water courses, culminating in climbing the grand cascade. The lawns either side were covered in families sunbathing, while their children frolicked in the fountain, Lucy took great delight in joining them.

Finally we explored the house, just before it closed for the day. We were just about the only tourists left, so it was great to be the only ones in each room, although a little challenging occasionally to see the doors of a room be closed, locked and alarmed behind you as you leave it. Understandable though, when you consider the treasures there. A darkened room contains original sketches by Raphael and other artists bought in each artist's life by the Cavendish family. The day after we were there, the family announced they were selling one at auction, to raise capital for posting up the state even more, expected price above £10 million.

Lucy had a wonderful time taking photos and is keen to return, next visit....

Posted from deepest mobility....

The Little Crooked House

 

 

After a day recovering from driving through picturesque traffic jams, we decided last night to visit one of our chocolate box favourites, Little Moreton Hall. This was on my must see list ten years ago when we first came over per Lucy, we didn't actually get there until the next trip when Lucy was nine months old. That first expedition involved a false start where we got lost and discovered a marvellous old half timbered church at Marton. Eventually, another day, when we found the right place at the right opening hours, we found the same delight that so many others have in this remarkable place.

It's odd how even though it is so fine, it also became something that I had ticked off my must see list, and I had many more to go. It has not been on my list since and was not on my radar at all this trip until Susan pointed out that Lucy hadn't seen it to remember. I was still ho-hum, but hey we are chilling out in Cheshire and the afternoon looks as though it should improve from being in a cloud, why not?

The first thing was go to Macclesfield railway station to observe Tony and Margaret buying their Eurostar tickets, this was needed so we can do the same thing at Norwich, when we leave for Paris. After confusing the helpful station staff with my accent ("which county you from then"), the Oz nuclear family set out solo across Cheshire with only Google Maps and bad 3G to guide us.

Astonishing ourselves we arrived at a full car park only twenty minutes later, managing not to bog ourselves in, we trotted happily off to join the queue at the ticket counter.

A large lawn at the edge of a moat, with picnic tables, perfect for pork pies and houmus! Next thing, Lucy is at the side of the moat, "have you seen the size of these fish"! Seriously large gold fish, at least 440mm, follow us along the moat to the bridge into half-timber world.

Ther was a tour just beginning which I wanted to follow, Susan and Lucy just rolled their eyes and headed off after the first room, so I will never know all the details of each piece of plaster... heartbreaking.

The amazing thing about the Hall is that it hasn't fallen over, it is England's Leaning Tower of Pisa, slowly sinking sideways into the marsh it is built on. It's also a McMansion of its time, one family adding more and more show off fashion bits to their house until it really does start to bend and sink under the weight of their ambitions. Then it's a hay barn for 250 years, after the family find they are on the wrong side of the English Civil War. Somehow about six or seven pieces of original furniture survive in the house throughout, which really does make a great 15th C House & Gardens display home.

After Lucy has learned about roof joining, run around the undulating Long Gallery, played Goe Fishe, Goose and checked the Garderobes, not to mention Susan beating me at Nine Man's Morris, we repaired to the garden for afternoon cakes and wine with the other punters and a quackering chorus of cheeky ducks.

Susan and I then bored Lucy rigid by discussing the garden planting with the chief gardener, however Lucy was then able to roll down a small hill in the garden several times. Finally back to the entrance kiosk, where I photographed all the books that would be too heavy to carry home and consoled myself with a marzipan treat.

After stopping at an wonderfully fine church up the road we went on a mystery tour of the back lanes, through dense little woods and steep climbs and drops via Wildboarclough, back to Kettleshulme and dinner.

 

Posted from deepest mobility....