"The beautiful iron gates, some of the best work of that famous ironworker
Shaw, which serve to make fast the entrance to the shady drive leading to the higher ground upon which the building is situated, bears traces of antiquity. In some places the metal is worn thin, and has slowly succumbed to climatic influences. The gilded eagle's head, the crest of the Rollestons, which looks defiance on the very summit of these tall gates, has lost its lustre; the lower work is tarnished with age. Formerly these same gates occupied a different position. They served to guard a flight of ancient and worn stone steps, almost immediately in front of the house. "
Inside the gates one continued up the drive, (trees on the
left - garden on the right) which in the 20th century went in a gradual loop up
to the Hall and then continued back down to the main road again about a quarter
of a mile further on. There is some evidence that at one time there was a sweep
in front of the north-east side of the Hall, but on the map of 1915 this was no
longer extant. Continuing up the main drive beyond a grove of trees, with its
extremely noisy rookery and an orchard, one bore right round a bend and could
see ahead the Hall itself, and on the right a series of high brick walls,
screening the gardens themselves. There were several gates into the garden, but
these were between high brick pillars with half ball on the top and only accessible to
those with permission.
The stranger would continue up the drive, with a high bank
on the left topped by railings, behind which was the grassy parkland containing
the Rolleston’s grave plot, and if it were Spring, ablaze with daffodils.
Gentry would swing right, round the south-east corner of Hall itself to the gravelled
area in front of the porch, but others would continue straight on to the back
of the building, still following the high bank, towards the kitchen entrance.
About half way along the south-west side of the Hall the railings changed to a
retaining wall, and let into the bank on the left was the game larder.
Continuing round to the north-west side, the retaining wall had several
apertures let into it - three or four - and these were the coal stores, and the
flagged area in front of the wall was the drying area for use on wash days.
The gardens themselves were described as rather fine even in
their decline in the 1950's, but Mr Jacks in 1881 thought the garden in those
days was an “...old-fashioned garden, with its gigantic laurel bushes in
front of those old steps, like a huge wigwam made of foliage - its curious yew
hedge, which encloses the arena wherein cock-fighting formerly took place; its
old bowling green, which is now occasionally used for that game of bowls,
.....With its small conservatory, bright with geraniums and calceolarias, and
with its thatched bee-house, full of murmurous sound.”
The bee-house is of interest as it shows the attitude of the times when Lancelot Rolleston was a young man. It was expected in the high Victorian era that scientific progress was to be advanced by worthy individuals, rather than by teams - for example the team lead by the American, Thomas Edison, later in the period. Lancelot Rolleston decided to study bees. He had the bee-house, as he called it, built in such a way that he could sit comfortably inside with a chair and desk, and watch the bees through glass windows let into the rear of each individual hive. To quote from Mr. Jacks, "The boxes in which the insects deposit their honey are so arranged that they cannot fly about in the interior of the apartment, whilst their operations can be watched and studied through glass. So the bee-house serves a double purpose, besides being an ornament to the garden". There’s more about the bee house in a separate article. There are many stories in the village about the trouble the bees caused when swarming in the wrong place. They nearly always seemed to swarm on to the high yew hedge round the old cock-fighting pit, but they also ended up in the rose pergola and once even interrupted a Sunday School lesson taking place on the lawn as it was a hot day. What Lady Maud said on that occasion is not recorded!
On the north-east side of the Hall
one emerged via French windows on to the old steps, which swept down to a lawn
with a fountain and pond in it. The lawn was surrounded on the house side by a
sweeping path, that rumour suggests had once been the carriage drive in more
distant times. Be that as it may, the old gates by the lodge were placed at the
bottom of the steps until the time of the Colonel's father who had them moved
to their final site. The old steps were obviously held in great affection by
the Rolleston family. The Colonel and his Lady were photographed standing by
them on special occasions, and it is said that his friend Baden-Powell proposed
to his future wife while standing on them. It is also suggested that Mary
Chaworth of Annesley Hall, teenage heart throb of the young Lord Byron, escaped the vigilance of her guardians and left her home
surreptitiously to be at the balls for which Watnall was famous, sweeping down
the steps to dance the night away on the lawns
of Watnall Hall.
On the north-west side of the lawn area, by the pool and fountain, the Rollestons had a gazebo built at some time after 1915, for it does not appear on the O.S. map of that date. It was an open fronted structure in which Lady Maud would sit on fine summer Sundays and hold the Sunday School there, with the children sitting on the lawn. Alternatively, she sometimes held them in the rose garden under the shade of a large old yew tree. This was growing in the south-east corner of the rose garden. close to the small gravestones where the family pets had been buried for for many years. The main site of the Sunday
School was in the Mission - part of one of the Hall's outbuildings. Many villagers remember these lessons and still tell stories about them. Miss Iris Clay, a farmer's daughter, who lived and worked at Hall Farm, the home farm of the estate, left a manuscript written in 1960 and, amongst other village stories, mentions the Sunday school. "Lady Maud used to hold a Sunday School in the Mission Room against the Hall (part of the stable block) . Every Christmas she gave the children a wonderful party with presents for every child. Once she hired a fire-engine to bring these, and on another occasion she had a house built in the rafters out of which emerged Peter Pan to distribute the gifts. After the party it was the practice for Lady Maud to hand a current bun, and Sir Lancelot an orange to take home.
Like many of these estates of the time, the garden was not only designed for ensuring quiet and beauty, but also was highly productive in order to supply the Hall with fruit and vegetables throughout the year. Mr Peart, the last gardener, who was there from 1946 to 1956, was able to give many details of this aspect of the garden. By his time, of course, the 18th century orangery was in a ruinous state, but fruit and vegetables too, were still grown in quantity. After WW2, the Hall was partly used by a girl's school and they were not only fed by the vegetable garden, but the surplus was sold to greengrocers in the area as well. The orchard by the Lodge also produced a surplus of apples, pears and plums, but to quote Mr. Peart, "There was a huge wall along here (at right-angles to the main road) and on this you'd got peaches all the way along - and it used to be lovely going in and finding a nice ripe peach. I can't say they had them all at the Hall.” Finally, along the wall that followed the main road itself was a large golden drop plum that was espaliered, e.g. trained to grow along the wall. The village lads knew of these fruits too, and often would climb up and sample the plums. Mr. Peart says that he suspected the village policeman would help himself on occasion too, but he could never prove it!
Comments
Post a Comment