Armed with Yellow Humpies and Danica duns, Editor Hedges and The Prof enjoy a successful afternoon in pursuit of giant trout on Wilsford Manor’s stretch of the Wiltshire Avon.
NOT far from Stonehenge, and deep in chalk country, through Saxon villages and past dwellings of thatch and flint, flows the Wiltshire Avon—one of eight British rivers of that name (it derives from afon, the Welsh word for river). Over the years, I have fished here at Heale House and on the nearby Piscatorial Society water—where Sting’s guard dogs mounted a foray from the far bank—but perhaps the most exclusive stretch is that belonging to Wilsford Manor.
The Editor and I were invited along for opening day and were royally entertained by the owner, Miles d’Arcy-Irvine, and his wife, Lydia. Although now extensively remodelled in their own elegant style, the house has an aesthetic history that is notably colourful. Built in the 17th-century style by Detmar Blow for the Glenconner family, it became the home of that flamboyant artist and epistolist Stephen Tennant, one of the Bright Young Things of the inter-World War years, who held court here to chums such as Cecil Beaton, the Sitwells and his lover ‘Sieg’ Sassoon.
Stephen was the pasha of overblown taste and a poseur of some distinction. His writing paper was pink embossed with pink; he decorated the manor with lobsterpot lampshades, silver-painted lavatory bowls and a personally designed zebra-skin pouffe. At one stage, there were 16 gardeners.
Denne historien er fra August 17 2016-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra August 17 2016-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
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The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
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'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
