To the manor born

It was Day 3 of our holiday and the weather gods were still on their best behaviour. Wanting to make the most of both the glorious weather and our National Trust Touring Pass, we decided to leave Shropshire behind once more and visit a property which had been on our list for absolutely ages.

This time, our chosen destination was a bit further afield, involving a drive of about an hour and fifteen minutes in easterly direction, to the outskirts of Wolverhampton in the West Midlands.

The marshmallow clouds floating in a bright blue sky and the predicted highs of a balmy 24°C couldn't have been more perfect for what was officially the first day of Summer.

After driving through the varied landscape of South and South-East Shropshire, passing the wonderful high-and-low town of Bridgnorth along the way, we crossed the border into Staffordshire and were then welcomed to Wolverhampton, where our car's Satnav neatly deposited us at the approach to Wightwick Manor.

After some head scratching by the lady at the ticket office, who had clearly never seen a Touring Pass before, we were admitted to the property. We were told, however, that only the downstairs rooms were open and that sadly the Malthouse Gallery would also be closed that day due to a shortage of volunteers. 

She must have seen the disappointment on my face, so she took us aside and advised us to speak to one of the volunteers inside the house and explain that we'd come all the way from Belgium to see the De Morgan exhibition and then, perhaps, they'd find someone to open the gallery for us.

Instead of going straight to the house, however, we went for a walk around the woodland bordered lake lying to the west of the house to stretch our legs and get our bearings. 

Then we strolled towards the house, taking in its plethora of gorgeous architectural details, the front door leading to the porch and hall beyond standing invitingly open.

The superbly crafted rambling manor house was built in 1887 for Theodore Mander, a partner in the local varnish and paint-making firm of Mander Brothers. His architect was Edward Ould. The elaborate timber-framed exterior, with deliberate asymmetrical groupings, features barley twist brick chimneys, oriel windows and carved quatrefoils, which are four-leaved ornaments or apertures common in Gothic architecture.

In 1893 Ould added an east wing with the help from the Pre-Raphaelite glass-designer Charles Kempe, who produced some fine painted glass for the house as well as advising on its decoration.

Wightwick Manor - the name is pronounced as wittick - was built primarily as a family dwelling. Like many affluent Victorians, Theodore and his wife, Flora, wanted to move their growing family out of an industrial town to a healthier location. Although Wightwick was rural, it was only a mere three miles from the Mander Brothers factory in Wolverhampton!

The Manders wanted a comfortable home that reflected their aspirations and tastes, and the house combined exquisite period details - we lacked several pairs of eyes to take them all in - and traditional craftsmanship with modern technology. It had central heating, a modern kitchen and bathrooms and electric light throughout by 1893.

Having finally had our fill of the charming wood carvings - the bat and the owl being particular favourites - we took deep breaths and stepped inside, where we were greeted by a friendly and knowledgeable volunteer, who bade us welcome and proceeded to introduce us to the house and its extraordinary collection of Pre-Raphaelite art.

As soon as I could get a word in edgewise, I told her that we were from Belgium and were gutted that the gallery wasn't open, as a local friend (Vix!) had waxed lyrical about the De Morgans and had urged us to go and visit it.

At first, our ploy didn't seem to have worked (whereupon I shrugged, sighed "Oh well" and walked away), but a couple of minutes later she came running after us, telling us to hang around as she was trying to get someone to open the gallery for us. Result!

We continued our tour of the ground floor, making sure not to venture too far away, and trying but failing to take in room after room of period furnishings and decor, not to mention the volume of Pre-Raphaelite art. It immediately became clear to us that we wouldn't be able to cover everything in one single visit, and that we'd have to return one day.

When Theodore Mander commissioned the building of Wightwick Manor in Old English style in 1887,  he started the Mander family's love for Victorian art and design. However, following his untimely death in 1900, his eldest son Geoffrey inherited the property, entering both the family firm and local politics. After his first marriage in 1906, he and his wife, Florence, became notable advocates of women’s suffrage, holding meetings in the drawing room.

Wightwick as we now know it, however, developed only after Geoffrey’s second marriage - the first having ended in divorce - in 1930. His new wife, Rosalie Glynn Grylls, gave up her ambitions to be a Liberal MP and focused her attention on English literature and art. Starting with a biography of Mary Shelley, her surroundings at Wightwick soon inspired her to research the Pre-Raphaelites, especially Rossetti.

Sir Geoffrey and Lady Mander began to collect works associated with the movement, especially by those artists who had been friends of William Morris: Rossetti, Burne-Jones, their pupils and, interestingly, the Pre-Raphaelite women - principally Evelyn De Morgan and Lizzie Siddal. Their first acquisition was a portrait of Jane Morris by Rossetti. She is the striking red head above the piano in the previous collage. That's her husband William Morris's silhouette on the bottom right in the same collage, as well as one of his iconic wallpaper designs, Pimpernel.

Other works which caught our eye are the luscious portrait of Jane Hughes, Mrs. Nassau Senior (1858) by George F. Watts (top left), Fair Rosamond (1869) by Henry Treffry Dunn (bottom centre) and Music, Sweet Music (Saint Cecilia) by Evelyn De Morgan (1889) on the top right.

Lady Mander also had an eye for a bargain and made canny purchases, not just of art but of items from the Morris & Co range, such as the Trellis wallpaper in the previous collage, Acanthus (above, bottom left) and Daisy (above, top right).

I loved the fact that the chairs you were allowed to sit down on were indicated by cat cushions, a tribute to Rosalie, Lady Mander, who adored cats! 

In 1937, Geoffrey Mander gifted Wightwick Manor, its contents, and a financial endowment to the National Trust. It was the first house given under the recently introduced Country House Scheme. which meant that a family donating their property to the Trust did not have to pay death duties but could continue to live in the property rent free for two generations. In return, the property would be, at least partly, opened to the public.

Thus, Sir Geoffrey and Lady Mander continued to live in the house, opening it to the public on Thursday afternoons. As the property got more popular the National Trust provided helpers to welcome guests and offer guided tours.

We were gasping over the stunning Great Parlour, modelled on the medieval great hall - which you can catch a glimpse of in the photo above the collage - when our helpful volunteer came seeking us out, telling us that she'd found someone and that we were to follow her. She quickly whizzed us through the rest of the ground floor, opening a couple of secret doors to allow for shortcuts, and out through the servants' wing.

After waiting a couple of minutes in front of the gallery (below, top left) a young volunteer appeared, took us up the flight of stairs, produced the all-important key, and let us in. It was quite special having the place completely to ourselves and being able to admire the works of William and Evelyn De Morgan unhindered by other visitors.

William De Morgan (1839-1917) was a friend of William Morris, and the foremost ceramic artist of the Arts and Crafts Movement in the latter half of the 19th century.  That's his portrait dating from 1909 on the bottom right, holding one of his lustreware vases (c.1900) . The portrait was painted by his wife, Evelyn. 

He began his formal training as a fine artist, before being led by his scientific and mathematical investigations to the decorative arts, creating stained glass, designing his own kilns, undertaking investigations in chemistry to create innovative lustre glazes and, finally, enjoying a second career as an author of popular fiction.

Evelyn De Morgan (1855-1919) was a painter who defied the expectations of her class and gender to become one of the most impressive artists of her generation. Her richly coloured canvases featuring beautifully draped figures, deliver messages of feminism, spirituality and the rejection of war and material wealth, making them incredibly relevant today.

From top to bottom: The Cadence of Autumn (1905), Love's Passing (1883-84) and The Garden of Opportunity (1892).

A firm favourite was Demeter Mourning for Persephone, dating from 1906.

Demeter was the Greek goddess of the earth, and particularly of the fruits of the fields, and as usual she is represented here as the corn-goddess. Her hair is covered with ears of corn, from which poppies drop around her. Her daughter, Persephone was kidnapped by Hades and taken beneath the earth to his kingdom. Inconsolable at the loss of her daughter, Demeter refused to allow the earth to be fruitful.

You can see the painting in detail on the website of the De Morgan Collection here.

Our heads still reeling from all that splendour, we made our way to the tearooms for a late lunch. Contrary to the tearooms at Powis Castle, there weren't any queues, and we had the pick of the tables.

We both opted for jacket potatoes (Jos's favourite) with cheese, salad and coleslaw, which were absolutely delicious. 

Afterwards, we returned to the house to continue our explorations and to thank the lovely volunteer for her efforts. We were recognized by another volunteer, who asked us if we were back for round two. When we told her about the gallery, at first she misunderstood and was all set to call around to see if she could find someone to open it for us! 

It was mid afternoon when we finally made it outside but were lacking the stamina to properly explore the grounds and gardens. Yet another reason to come back another time ...

Instead we walked to the terraced garden, swooning over the black and white half-timbering and bay windows of Wightwick Manor's East Wing.

Then we strolled to the formal garden, where several peacock topiary are ruling the roost.

Apparently, new building development in the surrounding area has led to increased water run off through the gardens, which their Victorian drainage system is struggling to cope with. Therefore they are fundraising to develop a long term solution so that the beautiful gardens are not washed away. For this purpose, peacock topiary pins are sold for £ 3. We both bought one and as you can see, Jos started wearing his one straight away!

After another Lady of the Manor pose, it was time for a restorative cup of coffee before driving back to the cowshed.

I was wearing my beloved curtain couture maxi skirt, which I combined with an orange cap sleeved top patterned with tiny black and white dots. Both were ancient Think Twice finds and it was certainly not the first time they were worn together. My haori style cover-up was charity shopped and proved to be my best friend for a couple of days. Both the stretchy belt and my trusted Clarks Cloudsteppers were retail buys.

I'll be back with further adventures as soon as I've recovered from the extreme temperatures which have been predicted for the next days! If you're in the same boat, do stay cool!

Farewell to the blue remembered hills

It was the Thursday of our second week and, as our holiday was nearing its sell-by date, we were starting to feel just a tiny bit morose. We could get used to this, we mused. To the peace and quiet, the sense of freedom, the not having to do anything we didn't feel like doing. Oh, I know very well that all good things must somehow come to an end, but it is getting harder and harder each time to leave the good life behind for the hamster wheel of daily life.

So far, we had been taking each day as it presented itself, often making spur of the moment decisions while having a leisurely breakfast washed down with copious cups of coffee.

This day was no exception, but we lingered a bit longer than usual, as it dawned on us that yet again we hadn't even scratched the surface of what Shropshire has to offer. Having finally come to a decision, it was past 10.30 when we were on the road. The destination we entered into our Satnav was one which might sound familiar. Indeed, we already visited the charming black-and-white and up- and-down town of Brigdnorth on our very first day.

After parking our car, we walked towards the bustling High Street, which features several fine 17th century buildings, including the Town hall (above, bottom right). There's also no shortage of charity shops, but by the time our stomachs told us it was time for lunch, we'd only found a shirt for Jos.

Lunch was had at the local Wetherspoon's - where else - which was packed to the rafters, so that we had a bit of a wait.

Then we ambled around the corner and uphill from the High Street towards the highest point of the town, where St. Leonard's Church is taking pride of place in a peaceful close of its own.

The current church, which is built in the rich red coloured local sandstone, dates from the second half of the 17th century and was extensively restored in the mid-19th century.

Inside, the church which is redundant and has been designated by English Heritage as a Grade II listed building, has the airiness of a cathedral.

As Bridgnorth is a town with a split personality, and we'd arrived in High Town, our aim was to visit its other half, which rather unsurprisingly is called Low Town and nestles on the banks of the River Severn.

We decided against taking St. Leonard's Steps, leading down from the church close, and just one of a total of seven sets of steps connecting the town's two halves. 

Instead, we took the steep and winding Cartway which until 1786 was the only route between the two and which at one point had some 50 pubs along its length.

A number of caves, which were once used as dwellings, were dug out of the sandstone cliff, their boarded up remains commemorated by plaques. There were plaques on some of the houses too, although not all of them were of historical value!

At the bottom of Cartway is Bishop Percy's House, an ornate timer-framed house built in 1580 by wealthy barge owner Richard Forster. It opened as a tea room in 2018, after five years of extensive renovations. Obviously, we couldn't pass the opportunity to have our version of afternoon tea, which included a slice of delicious cheese cake.

The flower filled quayside in Lower Town was the perfect place to show you what I was wearing on this perfect Summer's day. You've seen it all before: my curtain couture maxi skirt and orange polka dot blouse accessorized with a chocolate brown leather belt and a yellow beaded necklace .

The fiery orange and yellow flowers on the bottom right are trying their best to compete with my outfit but failing miserably. The locomotive artwork in the same photo is called Train of Thought and is part of an Art Trail throughout the town.

What comes down must go up, but in this case up was quite a climb, so we took the Cliff Railway instead, which only takes a matter of mere minutes. Not for the faint-hearted, though, as it really is rather steep!

Back on Castle Walk in High Town, we were rewarded by this breath-taking view of Lower Town and the Severn Valley. We took our time to sit down on a bench and stare at the bird's eye view of the  Lilliput world at our feet.

Back at the cowshed, we enjoyed this silky smooth indigo and pink sunset, which was the perfect conclusion of our day.

How bittersweet is the last day of the holidays? There's a lump in your throat and your heart feels heavy at the thought that once again, those longed-for two weeks are over. 

The blue skies that greeted us that morning spurred us on to make the most of the time we had left, so we packed a picnic and hopped over the border to Wales.

Our destination that day was a small but perfectly formed historic market town called Montgomery, which is set into the rolling Mid Wales Marches countryside.

After posting a letter to a blogger friend at the small post office, we crossed the road to investigage the delightful St. Nicholas Church.

The Grade I listed church has its origins in the 13th century and harbours delights such as beautiful stained glass, a hammer-beam roof and the magnificent 16th-century canopied Herbert tomb. Richard Herbert (d. 1593) was the lord of Montgomery Castle, and father of the poet and cleric George Herbert.

And let's not forget the disco ball!

For our final holiday picnic, we were determined to have one with a spectacular view. So we climbed the steep lane leading from The Dragon Hotel towards the remains of the 13th century Montgomery Castle.

Slightly out of breath after our exersion in the blazing midday sun, we were delighted to find a shady gazebo waiting for us. How perfect! We didn't have it to ourselves for long though, as it proved to be a popular spot for spending one's lunch break.

Perched on a rocky ridge above the town, with all-seeing views across the Welsh border, the castle's ruins which are managed by CADW, the historic environment service of the Welsh Government, are very atmospheric.

Montgomery’s stone castle, commenced in 1223, replaced a nearby wooden fort known as Hen Domen. 

Look at that stunning view behind me! I could have sat and gazed into the distance for hours, at the fields of green, and those hazy hills, and that long straight road leading who knows where, but sadly our time was up. 

So, we drove back - along that long and straight road - to the cowshed one last time to pack our bags and mentally prepare ourselves for the journey ahead.

Fast forward one day, and here I am, enjoying my last beverage on English soil at the Eurotunnel terminal. I can't wait to be back ...

And so this travelogue, like our holiday, has come to an end. But there's no reason for tears, as in less than two weeks, we'll be off on our annual trip to Belgium's west country.

Until then, there will be outfits and other things to catch up on!