Monthly Archives: November 2024

Big Bulb Plant 2024 – Bulbs at the Bridge

In error, we ordered far more daffodil bulbs than we anticipated ahead of our annual Big Bulb Plant in October. Instead of 7000, volunteers who came along had the challenge of getting 9000 bulbs into the ground. Matters were exasperated too, by the quality of the ground around the historic Kings Weston iron bridge where we’d committed to plant. Earlier this year, with the support of the Save the Green Iron Bridge group and Janet Poole., donations were collected as part of the celebrations around the reopening of the bridge, and it seemed fit to decorate either side of the structure with these flowers. When it came to it, this was easier said than done.

Work begins on the east side of the bridge with plenty of family involvement. 

The event began at 10am and gradually volunteer numbers grew throughout the morning. Those tasked with digging holes for the bulbs immediately found the ground to be poor, filled, as it was, with rubble sat there from decades before. Both sides of the bridge were heavy going, large lumps of building stone, brick, tarmac and all manner of material dumped there for inexplicable reasons and buried beneath the turf. This considerably slowed progress throughout the day, particularly on the west side. We still don’t know where all this material came from, but it could have been demolition rubble from the WWII use of the estate or some well-meaning council plan to level the ground around the bridge.
 
By lunchtime, opportunities to plant on the eastern side were exhausted, and everyone moved over to support the beleaguered team on the west.   Aside from the challenge of the ground conditions, the day was perfect for the task, breaking out in sunshine by the end of the day, helpfully illuminating the slopes of Shirehampton Park as it sank towards the horizon. Fine tilth of soil left by digging bramble roots out sped progress as the afternoon progressed, and work was completed with the trimming of some self-seeded saplings that might overshadow the newly planted area.

A big gang of volunteers moves gradually  along the grass from the bridge. 
The western side of the iron bridge proved the biggest challenge to dig. 

We’re immensely grateful for everyone who came along throughout the day, no matter how long they were able to help for. We hope that the daffodils will now find their own path and root well in the troublesome ground before next spring and give us a fine display. Whilst we didn’t manage to get the full compliment in the ground, 6500 bulbs made it in. The surplus will form the basis of this month’s working party and go in along Shirehampton Road.  

Having a ball at Kings Weston

Kings Weston has a habit of bringing people together, and when, by chance, we began talking to Peter Floyd, former head of the city design team at Bristol City Council, we realised he had close connections with the house. Peter has kindly written a reminiscence from 1970, a pivotal year for the mansion on becoming redundant for a second time since WWII, and, as it happened, his own life.   
Peter writes:

“I worked for Bristol City Council (BCC)Planning Department in 1970. As an architect/planner I was head of Design Section responsible for some architectural aspects of the  Planning, Engineering and Parks Departments. I was also a member of the Council of Bristol and Somerset Society of Architects (BSSA).
 
In the late 60’s public concern was growing about the risk of dereliction of both Ashton Court Mansion and also Kings Weston House. I had already organised a number of events for the BSSA and in 1970 chaired a group of members who decided to hold a Ball at BCC owned Ashton Court, to publicise its poor condition. Bristol City Council unexpectedly gave its permission and so we worked on the Ball organisation and design for 6 months, helped enthusiastically by artists Ann and Jerry Hicks. Our insurers then required assurance from BCC that the house was safe which was not forthcoming
.  

Peter Floyd (left) and Charles Gregory carry in some of the artist-design decorations for the ball.


The state of the house was revealed to the public which was furious. BCC was astonished that anyone was interested – However, the Ball had lost its venue.”

 
 
With the Bristol Society of Architects turfed out of Ashton Court they urgently looked for alternative venues to host their Restoration Ball. It so happened that Kings Weston house was shortly to be vacated by Bath University and with an uncertain future, so the titular restoration might equally apply to Vanbrugh’s mansion. With the help of Professor Ken Panter Kings Weston was acquired for one night only.  Efforts were quickly refocussed on the new venue. The Evening Post reported on June 5th:   

 
“Guests at tonight’s masked ball at Kings Weston House will be greeted by a scene to suit just about every taste. Wildly abstract works art by students of architecture will be dotted among potted palms loaned by Bristol Corporation parks department. And musically the sounds will range from Avon Cities jazz to period music played by a consort of recorders on the magnificent staircase of the Vanbrugh mansion.
 
A team of helpers led by ball-committee chairman Mr Peter Floyd, and member of the City Planning Department, were scurrying about Kings Weston today getting everything ready for the 350 guests who are paying four guineas a head for the pleasure. Mr Martin Fisher has been up night after night with his team of electricians devising lighting effects which will be the star attraction. Fifty spotlights, 30 stage lights and some cube-shaped lanterns will be dotted around the house. And from the outside Kings Weston will be flood-lit, providing a spectacle for the drivers passing along the M5.Groups of helpers have devised different decorative schemes for the sitting-out rooms on the ground and first floor. One has been transformed into a leafy bower, filled with borrowed rhododendrons, ivy, and laburnum. Others have been draped in fabric to give a tent-like effect. Mr Floyd, organising the ball for the Bristol Society of Architects, tells me it’s been touch-and-go to prepare the mansion in the two months since the decision to cancel the Restoration Ball at Ashton Court.  “but we’ll be alright on the night,” he said.

Masks will be judged at midnight, soup and rolls will be served to those in need of sustenance at 1:30am, and Morris Dancers will be performing on the lawns during the evening.

Today’s coffee shop terrace seen in 1973, hinting at the plight of house and park at this time.

The ball more or less coincides with the departure from Kings Weston of the Bath University department of architecture. Professor Ken Panter said: I’m sad to leave, but it will be better for the students to move to Bath. We’ve been out on a limb here.”
 
The architects are hoping the ball will stimulate interest in the future of Kings Weston. There are awful fears that if nobody takes it over, it could, like Ashton Court, crumble once more into a state of decay.”
 


As it happened, the ball proved the catalyst for the house’s next evolution. Peter picks the story up again:   

 
“Martin Kenchington, Avon County Architect, was at the Ball. He knew that Avon Police were looking for a building, persuaded them to take it and was able to save the structure and replace the famous arcaded chimneys.
 
The Ball at Kings Weston was a success as well as prolonging the life of two important buildings.  As chairman, I was last man out and at 4am the next morning I proposed to my partner, who accepted – two buildings – and a wife!”

A pleasure in Ruins

After the war, the declining condition of house and grounds at Kings Weston was the source of national concern. In fact, the architectural history of Bristol in particular was brought into sharp focus by wartime losses. The author Simon Harcourt-Smith clearly had a spirit inclined towards the romantic lure of the ruin, indeed, his own book “The last of Uptake” is an atmospheric story about the last days of a great mansion in decline, and its ultimate fall. Fortunately, unlike so many country houses, Kings Weston survived the decline many estates suffered in the three decades or so from the 1930s onwards, but only just.
 
Harcourt-Smith visited Bristol in October 1946 and wrote a lyrical piece for the high-society magazine The Tatler and Bystander  that included his great admiration for Kings Weston even in it’s war-worn state. It’s worth recounting here as a   

“How strange it is that Vanbrugh, who made his name as a writer of successful comedies, should have created an architecture which thrives in tragic circumstances. We can thank Providence that neither Blenheim nor Kimbolton nor Grimsthorpe have yet fallen into ruin. But ruin seems to be the proper mood of a Vanbrugh palace. I cannot believe Seaton Delavel was ever as moving in the days of its beautiful crazy owners as it is today, with the miners’ cottages creeping up the drive, and doves cooing among the Caesars in their alcoves, and a great purple cloud coming up out of the North Sea. I suspect that Castle Howard may have gained in drama from its fire; certainly Eastbury for Bubb Doddington now a mere fragment of a great house which should stir even a blind heart.”

A jolly sketch, but jolly inaccurate, accompanying Simon Harcourt-Smiths article. One that perhaps evokes rather than records the impression of army huts in the park. 

“And now King’s Weston turned into a school, then befouled by the military during the recent war: dormitories in the garden, an outer defilement of Nissen huts round the park, the servants’ quarters pulled down and littered on the terrace, the mantelpieces gone from the great saloons, temples chocked with old litter. Here is but a skeleton of grandeur; but for that very reason it makes one see as never before how great a genius Vanbrugh was. This is an idiom entirely personal and in heroic strains. Gaze at one of his slender, elongated arches. It is unlike anything else in our architecture. Wren may be a perfect artist, but one feels him to be the conventional man raised to the height of the angels. Vanbrugh’s art, never perfect, needs no elevation to the clouds. For it began there. . . . “