The memory like a cloudless air

Hello friends and readers, and welcome to the penultimate episode of my travelogue. It's good to see that some of you aren't bored by my travels yet and that you are joining me again!

I confess I've been procrastinating though, as the events of this particular installment took place just one day short of eight weeks ago, and I expect I'll be feeling quite bereft when eventually I finish my last travel post in a week or so. 

You might also have noticed a decrease in frequency in my posting, as I've been forced to limit my screen time, particularly when a hectic day at the office has left me reeling and suffering from sore eyes. 

But I regress! Back to the subject at hand, which is the glorious, gold-framed day we spent at Wightwick Manor on Wednesday 21 June. The memory of this day - as well as the string of other blissful ones which made up our holiday - really is like a cloudless air. I borrowed the title from the words written on the mantelpiece in the manor's Acanthus Room, in its turn borrowed from Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem In Memoriam Section XCIV [“How pure at heart and sound in head ”].

The air might not have completely cloudless that day, but those drifting in the slightly hazy blue sky were of the innocent variety reminiscent of fluffy wads of cotton wool. My journal, in which thankfully I diligently noted these things each night, tells me the mercury climbed to a gentle 22°C.

The journey from the cowshed to this magnificent manor on the outskirts of Wolverhampton took us just over an hour, and it was late morning when we presented our Touring Pass to the slightly baffled staff manning Visitor Reception. 

Our visit was a repeat one, as we were here last year as well. As the splendour of this Victorian manor housing an impressive Pre-Raphaelite art collection had been almost too much to take in in one take, it was clear from the very start that we would be back. 

And here we were! In contrast to last year, though, it was nothing short of a relief that enough volunteers were present to open up both the gallery and the upstairs rooms!

After a stroll around the house and stable block housing the shop, second-hand bookshop and tearoom, to stretch our legs and to get our bearings, we decided to visit the Malthouse Gallery first.

Those of you who have been following me around for a while might remember that last year, in spite of the shortage of volunteers, they found someone to open the gallery especially for us. No private view this time, but there weren't too many visitors cluttering up the space either.

In partnership with the De Morgan Foundation, the Malthouse Gallery displays drawings and paintings by the pioneering female artist, Evelyn De Morgan and the creations of her husband, the foremost ceramicist of the Arts and Crafts Movement, William De Morgan. 

The De Morgan Foundation was established by Wilhelmina Stirling, Evelyn De Morgan's younger sister.

She proudly displayed her vast collection of works by her sister and brother-in-law at her home, Old Battersea House in London, until her death in the 1960s.

During her lifetime, Wilhelmina Stirling collected nearly 70 oil paintings and 600 pieces of ceramic by the De Morgans and was well-acquainted with other imminent collectors of Victorian Art, including the Mander family of Wightwick Manor.

So close was her friendship with the Manders and such was their interest in safeguarding the collection, that they offered for the entire De Morgan Collection to be stored at Wightwick Manor – away from harm in the London Blitz – during the Second World War.

Since at least 1997, when Wightwick accepted a bequest of De Morgan pictures and ceramics from Wilhelmina and Evelyn’s niece, Phyllis Pickering, curators here have mooted the idea of a De Morgan Gallery being made from the old Malt House building, an ambition which was finally realised in 2016.

Same as last year, we had trouble tearing ourselves away from the gallery, but we made it back outside eventually when our grumbling stomachs decided they were in need of sustenance.

Putting their patience to the test, we wanted to have a peek into the formal garden with its topiary peacocks first, but a peek was literally all we got as for some reason the various entrances to the garden were closed off. Instead, we strolled to the lawns at the front of the house and, while Jos was taking a breather on a bench, I walked to the so-called Mathematical Bridge, built in 1949 and inspired by its namesake at Queen's College, Cambridge. Apparently, it crosses a road called Wightwick Bank and connects the main gardens with a small wooded area on the eastern side of the road but, same as last year, it was closed off. Admittedly, it did look quite ramshackle ...

After a lunch of sandwiches, ordinary ones for Jos and toasted ones for me - we took a deep breath and entered the marvellous manor.

Built by Edward Ould in 1887, with an extension dating from 1893, for wealthy industrialist Theodore Mander, the house is a true Arts & Crafts treasure trove, with notable wallpapers and fabrics by William Morris, glass by Charles Kempe and tiles by William de Morgan. 

Theodore and his wife Flora’s passion for Victorian art and design started the collection of Pre-Raphaelite works of art including pictures by Rossetti, Burne-Jones, Ford Maddox Brown and Millais, and was added to by their son Geoffrey. 

The house was gifted to The National Trust by Geoffrey Mander in 1937 and grade I listed in 1950.

Of particular note is the Great Parlour, created in 1893, its size and scale rising through two storeys completely unexpected. The initial impression is of a 15th Century great hall converted to a late Victorian sitting room. In medieval fashion there are no doors, just arches from the 'screens passage'.

To intensify the medieval effect, Charles Kempe coloured the roof and fireplace and his stained glass featuring Saints George, Andrew and Patrick fills the windows. Kempe's coloured plasterwork frieze suggests that the Parlour was perhaps enhanced in Elizabethan times. The frieze illustrates the ancient Greek myths of Orpheus and Eurydice with appropriate quotations from the poets Milton and Addison. But you're not to be deceived: the frieze includes a kangaroo and the true date '1893' is prominently carved above the fireplace!

Wightwick Manor might be a Victorian era house built to resemble an Elizabethan style manor house but it is equipped with all of the mod cons of the late 19th century, including electricity, indoor plumbing, central heating and even a venting/cooling system!

After passing through the Billiards Room and Dining Room, we ascended the visitors' staircase with its gorgeous yet fragile Japanese rush matting dado, subdued green paintwork and Morris 'Willow Boughs' wallpaper. 

The staircase leads to the visitors' rooms, all named after their original decoration, among them the Indian Bird Room with its Royal Worcester Aesthetic Movement moon flasks on the mantelpiece (see two collages up, bottom right). Together with Rossetti's painting of Jane Morris (the redhead above the grand piano in the first interior collage), I wouldn't have minded taking them home with me.

The Pomegranate Passage behind the Great Parlour links the visitors' rooms, family rooms and servants's wing. Here, a wall hanging based on Burne-Jones's painting 'The Mill' (a small part of which you see top centre in the above collage) is taking pride of place, with a helpful and knowledgeable volunteer explaining it was embroidered by the Royal School of Needlework in about 1908.

The final part of our visit took us through the servants' wing which, being fascinated by all things kitchenalia, is always a favourite with us. 

Almost square-eyed from trying but failing to take it all in, we went for a walk in the grounds, skirting the Upper and Lower Pools and walking on muddy woodland paths until, after passing the tiny thatched Grigg House, the formal garden once again came into view.

We'd stopped in front of Upper Pool for outfit photos. Both my denim skirt and short-sleeved knit cotton jumper were worn previously, as were my beloved Clarks Cloudsteppers. 

Much to our delight, as we approached the formal garden, the team of gardeners was removing the barriers which had kept us from entering earlier that day. Apparently, they'd been doing some maintenance work and resowing of the grass paths. 

In 1904, the Manders employed the foremost Lancashire Arts and Crafts garden designer, Thomas Mawson, to lay out their garden. The death of Flora Mander in 1905 meant his designs weren't fully implemented, but he returned in 1910 and added the South Terrace. The design and principles of what he wanted are still clear today.

We were quite parched and gasping for a drink by now, so we returned to the tearoom for our customary cappuccinos and some chocolate and caramel shortbread to tide us over until dinner. 

After a browse in the second-hand bookshop and the Old Manor shop with its room dedicated to Arts and Crafts and William Morris inspired products, it was time we said our goodbyes to Wightwick Manor once more.

On our way out, a backward glance was rewarded with this view of the magnificent manor's sprawling façade. 

It was only when I was researching this post that I found out that, starting from July, and expected to last for the next three years, essential conservation work is taking place on the exterior of the manor The National Trust was awarded a Museum Estate and Development (MEND) grant for a total of £658,260, which also inspired the project’s name, ‘The Big MEND’.

The National Trust is contributing £139,320, taking the total project cost to just under £800,000.

So, when we next see the manor, the above view might well be partly covered in scaffolding. But we'll be back, that's for sure.