the dining room with crowds enjoying the day. (Photo, Bob Pitchford)
This year’s September open day must rank amongst one of the best in recent years. With fine weather and a sense of occasion the day attracted just shy of 600 visitors between opening at 10am and half-four. Five busy tours were hosted by KWAG throughout the day taking visitors through each of the state rooms on the ground floor including the former Drawing Room where our usual exhibition was held. Noticeably, the sun encouraged may people to explore more of the estate, with a constant stream of people seen walking up the path to The Echo and back.
This year the exhibition was augmented by a new display cabinet where we were able to show some of the smaller artefacts we’ve not previously been able to. As with the last couple of years, we were selling the KWAG Christmas cards to help support our work around the estate. Perhaps because of the fine weather or new postal costs these weren’t as popular as previous occasions. However, the day attracted around £500 in cash and digital donations; this will help go towards offsetting the cost of the Big Bulb plant to be held this month.
The Drawing Room, now the Oak Room, hosts KWAG’s exhibition in the middle of a house tour. (Photo Bob Pitchford)
As usual, huge thanks must go to KWAG volunteers who gifted their time staffing the event, greeting visitors, and manning the exhibition. Our thanks also go the team at Kings Weston house for hosting the event and allowing KWAG to play such a large part in showcasing it.
In many ways this piece follows on from last months article about the original interior of Vanbrugh’s Kings Weston house. It comes after we discovered another mansion, Gloster House, in Ireland, with some interesting similarities. The architectural history of England and Ireland are rarely studied together, yet national distinctions were less prominent during the Eighteenth Century when the two kingdoms fell under a single ruler.
The distinctive original appearance of the Saloon at Kings Weston reconstructed. Reconfigured, the room is now known as the hall or gallery.
Gloster House, County Offaly, is a long low-lying mansion built from around 1700 onwards. The two later wings rather upset the balance of the original nine-bay façade in the middle, an exterior that perhaps looks a little earlier than what lies within. Entering through the front door there is a spectacular double-height space and immediately in front of the visitor are two tiers of arches, the upper being an open gallery like that which once existed at Kings Weston. The main hall gives onto an inner hall from which a pair of staircases take you up to the gallery level from where views back into the hall can be enjoyed. Alcoves line the side walls in a similar way as drawings suggest was the case at Kings Weston. There are some key differences of course, there are no fireplaces in this space, and the overall impression is more decorative and ornamental than similar spaces designed by Vanbrugh.
Ground floor plan of Gloster House, County Offaly. Later extensions shown in light grey and double-height space in paler blue.
These works at Gloster House, dating probably to the 1720s, have been attributed to perhaps Ireland’s most important architect, Edward Lovett Pearce. He’s a figure we’ve brought into Kings Weston’s story before. Born into an Irish family, Edward was a cousin of Sir John Vanbrugh and, at 16 years old, was apprenticed to him after the death of his own father in 1715. This was a period during which Vanbrugh’s office was still overseeing works at Kings Weston. Whilst other works would have become familiar to the young pupil, it appears as though Kings Weston’s interior made an impact.
The entrance hall at Gloster House, County Offaly. (Gloster House website)The gallery, with arches on the left overlooking the hall. (Gloster House website)
After a brief time in the army in 1717 Lovett Pearce returned to architecture and to his homeland. It is during this early period that the Gloster House work is supposed to have been completed. The similarity between the lost Saloon at Kings Weston what Pearce later achieved in Ireland is most marked. Pearce increasingly moved away from Vanbrugh’s Baroque style to the developing Palladian movement, but at Gloster House he combines Vanbrugh’s dramatic and playful use of space with more modern ornamentation. The tight cage of stone arcades constricting the staircase that was built at kings Weston is transformed in Gloster House into a light open gallery with a single freestanding colonnade and classical-inspired vault.
Gloster House is not the only building that seems to owe Kings Weston its inspiration. Dated 1720, a design for stables survives in the Kings Weston Book of Drawings authored by a Mr Price. Although this is the only known reference to this gentleman it shows he was a competent architect. Though the context in which the drawing was created are not known, Mr Price is likely to have been familiar enough with Kings Weston to be able to supply designs complementary enough to Vanbrugh’s house. It’s likely that Price was “John Price of Richmond” (sometimes “of Wandsworth”). Price has the strongest claim to be architect of Barnsley Park, Gloucestershire, where works were ongoing in 1720.
The entrance front of Barnsley Park, Gloucestershire.
Just a glance at the entrance front of Barnsley Park and one can see similarities. The composition of the temple frontage, bold keystones, arched windows, weighty attic storey and pediment all feel familiar. The other elevations are all entirely different, a feature shared with Kings Weston, but entirely individual in character. We have to go within to see how exposure to the unique Saloon of Kings Weston might have translated into Price’s work. The entrance hall repeats Kings Weston’s double-height space and uses an open arcaded back wall to introduce a dramatic visual connection between it and the inner hall and gallery beyond. Unlike Kings Weston or Gloster House, the inner hall isn’t a showcase for a grand stair, this is set off to one side. Another oddity is that the first floor gallery doesn’t take advantage of the open arcades for a grandstand view, instead allowing the arches to stand as little more than a room divider. Instead, the gallery bridges the inner hall along its back wall.
The ceilings to the two halls at Barnsley Park are the reverse of the arrangement at Kings Weston; the heavily coved front Hall is like the one formerly in the stair hall at Kings Weston, and the flat ceiling with a central oval compartment more like the surviving Saloon ceiling. Could the coved ceiling existing at Barnsley Park show us what might have been lost to the Victorian refurbishment of the stair hall?
The hall at Barnsley Park, Gloucestershire, with its own version of the arcaded end wall.
Like Gloster House, much of the effect at Barnsley Park arises from thickly applied decorative embellishments rather than simple architectural form, and, in that, they likely differ from Vanbrugh’s intentions at Kings Weston. This was a building Vanbrugh referred to as a “chateau” and clearly hoped it would assert a masculine, martial, presence on landscape and occupants alike. This perhaps proved to be the undoing of the Saloon and stair hall. No longer in line with the developing direction in architecture, lacking in domestic comforts, and otherwise inhospitable, it’s unsurprising that they were remodelled by later generations. However, these two surviving interiors, one by Pearce and the other by Price, might allow us a glimpse of what was lost.
Ground floor plan of Barnsley Park, the paler blue denoting the double-height spaces.
Ahead of Heritage Open Days, and to accompany our history of the stair hall last year, here’s a short history of the mighty room variously known as the Picture Gallery or Hall, but perhaps more properly called the Saloon. It’s always been intended as the most impressive of the rooms in the house, where important guests could enter and find themselves in a space designed to impose itself on the visitor through its great scale. Despite many changes in appearance from the original design by Sir John Vanbrugh, even today the hall has that power.
An original plan for Kings Weston house with annotations.
Today, what we see on entering by way of the front door is a comprehensive redecoration of the 1760s. As designed in 1712 for owner Edward Southwell, the walls were bare Penpole stone, with arches, alcoves, arcades, and other classical architectural detailing echoing that of the main facade. Visitors entering through the front door would have been greeted with two fireplaces before them, an expression of both hospitality and, in being able to afford fuel to keep both burning, wealth. Between them was a single arched door leading into the stair hall beyond, attention to which would have been drawn through glimpsed views through open arcades and a gallery at first floor level. Around the rest of the room were arched doorways and semi-circular alcoves, perhaps for the display of statues.
A Computer generated view of the Saloon at Kings Weston as originally designed in 1712.
A dramatic interplay of spaces was a familiar feature in Vanbrugh’s repertoire. The Hall at Blenheim Palace is the most ambitious of these theatrical spaces, but similar arrangements at Grimsthorpe Castle, Lincolnshire (design circa 1715), and Seaton Deleval, Northumberland (1718) repeated themes developed at Kings Weston. Even in its fire-damaged state, the entrance hall at Seaton Deleval gives the strongest idea of how Kings Weston’s Saloon might have looked when it was first occupied in 1716. The open arcades and high level galleries allow the visitor to experience the spaces from a variety of angles, passing from grand volumes into more intimate passages, from light airy spaces to dark and back again. Vanbrugh intentionally excited visitors by sculpting these contrasting and multi-layered spaces. He was ahead of his time in creating an experiential architecture, designed to provoke an emotional response from just air and stone.
The hall at Seaton Deleval with similar features to Kings Weston. (Jon Dalrymple)
Although architecturally impressive and grand in scale, the Saloon can hardly have been a practical or comfortable room to use. The stone walls would have been cold, and the open arcades would have promoted drafts to draw through the house. In 1769, by the time the Saloon was described in “A six week tour thru the southern counties of England and Wales” as “the only tolerable room, and that rendered totally useless, by a vast echo” its shortcomings had been addressed with new designs.
Cut-away of Sir John Vanbrugh’s original design for the Saloon and Stair Hall.
Edward Southwell’s Grandson, the third Edward Southwell, returned from his Grand Tour of Europe in 1762, a 24-year old with grand plans for his inheritance. Employing the architect Robert Mylne who, it is thought, he met in Rome, he set about modernising Kings Weston. Mylne was engaged in April the following year, but it wasn’t until four years into the project that work on the Saloon began. In November 1767 Mylne started sending Southwell a series of drawings for the room. General elevations of the walls, cornice details, fireplace, and “frames of the pictures at large”. Unlike a tradditional gallery the paintings were all integrated into their architectural setting rather than hanging in tradditional gilt frames; It’s this that ensured their survival in the house to today.
the Saloon with its decorative plasterwork framing the Southwell family portraits.
The carved stone architectural details were chiselled away and the room lined with timber studs and lath and plaster to improve both sound and warmth. The work in the Saloon was intended not just to improve its performance, but to display the large collection of family portraits as the lineage of a great family. The intention was to use each of the three blank walls to display the portraits of a particularly auspicious branch of the family. The Southwell’s themselves took the north wall, Edward’s mother’s side, the Watsons, took the wall opposite, but the wall confronting the arriving visitor was reserved for the most notable family: the Cromwells.
The ceiling appears to have been retained, only slightly altered from the original but receiving extravagant swags of flowers in plasterwork, all wrought by the famous Bristol workshop of Thomas Stocking. Mylne’s “drawing for a flower and urn in ceiling of saloon” apparently didn’t find favour. The redesigned Saloon was finished in 1768, with Mylne’s last correspondence on it being “patterns of water straw colours for the saloon”, presumably a yellow/stone colour paint for the walls.
Detail of the ornate plasterwork flowers and rose executed by Thomas Stocking in 1767-8
Kings Weston has been something of a focus for academic research just recently. A team from Trinity College Dublin recently visited Bristol with a research project looking at stone in historic buildings. Whilst their main area of interest was the Exchange in the city centre, they also visited Kings Weston as part of their enquiries. We were able to help in directing them to various written sources that pinpointed where the masonry for the house was being obtained from, either the park itself or further afield. They were also helpful in providing information on the sourcing of various stones from Ireland that were used ornamentally in the building.
The National Trust have also been in contact and found our research into the rooftop chimney arcades helpful in understanding how the rooftop areas of Seaton Delaval Hall were designed and used. This Northumberland mansion was also the product of architect Sir John Vanbrugh’s imagination, and the Trust are keen to find ways for visitors to best appreciate them. Our help included providing evidence that the arcade at Kings Weston was designed as a viewing platform, and directing them to Vanbrugh’s original letters in which he “would fain to have that part rightly hit off” and answer to what he hoped to achieve architecturally.
The chimneys of Kings Weston house appearing above the landscape in 1789.
Another exciting development has been the announcement that the Sir John Soane museum in London will be holding an exhibition on Vanbrugh in February 2026 to coincide with the tercentenary of his death. Author and curator Charles Saumarez Smith visited the estate last year and is engaged in researching Vanbrugh and his involvement in the rebuilding with the hope to publish a new biography to coincide with this commemorative year. We were glad to been able to accompany him on his visit and share a lot of our research to support this endeavour. Some time to wait yet, but this is definitely something to look forward to!
Oddly, views of the main front of Kings Weston house looking up the avenue from The Circle are rare, so, we’re celebrating on hunting down this copy of an early 20th Century postcard. The familiar lime avenue on the left is today accompanied by replacement trees we planted in 2014, but here the house is framed by some of the originals. In the 1760s the rigid formality of the linear avenues had become old fashioned, and the third Edward Southwell who owned the estate took to deformalizing it, creating a more natural landscaped parkland setting for the mansion. Rather than getting rid of all the trees he kept one side of the avenue and thinned-out the south side leaving just a handful scattered in the open grassland. The postcard shows that these survivors were still growing in the 1900s, but must have succumbed soon after.
The recently acquired early 1900s postcard showing the view of the house from The Circle.
It’s also worth noting the grassy carpet leading the eye towards the house is absolutely crammed with flowers, perhaps buttercups or ox-eye daisies. Sadly, a black and white photo does no justice to what the photographer enjoyed on this sunny summer day in the Edwardian era.
The approach to the house from Shirehampton was once dominated by views towards the house, something that the architect Sir John Vanbrugh was keen to emphasise in its design. The arcade of chimneys on the roof were once the first thing seen across the brow of the hill as the rest of the façade gradually revealed itself. By the time the visitor was stood on The Circle the house was perfectly framed by trees, the open circle providing a theatrical open space from which to admire it from.
Drawn by Samuel Loxton in 1920, this view shows on the right the cedar tree on The Circle that’s just been lost. In the foreground the ha-ha with its sunken fence that once surrounded the Circle is seen before being infilled after WWII.
Sadly, since WWII and the growth of self-seeded ash and sycamore, these once inspiring views have been lost, the result being a sense of disconnection between the house, its grounds, and Shirehampton.
Today views from the Circle are impacted by post-war tree growth.
The stair hall in Kings Weston house possesses some lush gilded trompe-l’oeil painted into its alcoves. These, we discovered some time ago, were inspired in about 1716 by printed images by the French architect Jean Lepautre. Edward Southwell who commissioned the house had copies of several volumes of his work, so appears to have set the painter the task of replicating them to decorate his new home. Until now, the origin of one of the paintings has remained a mystery, but one we think we’ve now solved.
The painting is small, occupying the arched head of a door on the first floor of the stair hall and looks less accomplished than those elsewhere. In incorporates weapons, canon, arrows, spears, a shield, banners and the paraphernalia of warfare. One of Lepautre’s designs came to our attention recently but looks rather different. The theme is similar but on a more extravagant scale. However, looking closely you can start to pick out the same various elements as the Kings Weston painting.
It appears that the painter has used the same image as the basis for his work, simplifying and adapting it to fit in the architectural setting he had to work with. Curiously, he seems not to have quite understood some of the things he was painting leading to some odd interpretation. The top of the shield, for example, has some strange bendy detail, and what on earth is the strange sun-shaped thing at the back? Is it supposed to be one of the epaulettes, feathers, or that oddity in Lepautre’s own engraving at the back-left side?
A collection of interesting drawings has caught our attention this month. They were all by the hand of Maria S. Miles (1826-1897) who grew up as Maria Hill at Henbury House to the east of Kingsweston Hill. As her married name suggests, she wed a member of the Miles family, Colonel Charles Miles, for whom Kings Weston was their dynastic home. This gave her private access to the family affairs, house, and parkland, some of which are featured amongst her artistic output.
The trees of Kings Weston seem to have suffered badly from heavy storms and wind, perhaps a bad mix of exposed location and shallow soils. A few months ago we covered the damage caused by a tornado in 1859, but the park was rattled again my a terrible storm in October 1877. Using the envelope for her letter to her husband, Maria Miles illustrated the sorry scene on Shirehampton Road where whole avenues of elm trees were thrown over.
Maria Miles’s drawing of fallen elms on Shirehampton Road, sketched on the envelope of a letter sent to her husband.
The event was reported widely in the local press:
“The full effects of the destructive fury of the gale and the havoc it made among trees can best be seen however Shirehampton Park. The whole line of noble elms on the left side of the road through the park is down. Many of these grand old trees had more than century’s growth in them, and as they lie prostrate present saddening spectacle. Their giant forms have for generations been the admiration of all lovers of well grown trees— now they are broken and torn as some malignant Aeolus had spent his last strength to wrench the favourites from the spot they adorned and fling them in heaps of ruinous wreck to wait for the prosaic attentions of the wood-cutter and the timber merchant. The owner of these fines trees is said to have remarked that he would have rather seen his house down than his trees, inasmuch as could have replaced the one but cannot restore the other, and the same kind of feeling— regret for the picturesque which has been destroyed in a single night—will be common all who have seen the extraordinary results of the storm as they are presented by the uprooted trees in Shirehampton Park. An old Cliftonian assures us that there has been no such scene as that now to be witnessed in the park during the last fifty years.”
The owner of the fine trees was Philip William Skinner Miles. Although he was the heir to the Kings Weston estate he allowed his mother, Clarissa, to continue living at the house until her death in 1868. Instead, he took up residence in Shirehampton where he fitted out Penpole House to his own specification. Maria captures her brother-in-law’s home in 1863 showing the spectacular view of the Severn enjoyed across the western lawn, and the rambling house and gardens in the foreground. Sadly, this house that once sat below Penpole Point, was demolished after WWII and is now the site of Penpole Close at the bottom of Penpole Lane.
Penpole House, looking north towards views of the Severn in 1863.
A short train passes along horseshoe Bend, below the parkland, in 1883.
Curiously, Maria appears to have had an interest in the family’s industrial exploits too. She records the SS Great Britain and SS Great Western, two ships in which the family held interests, and paints an early view of the Bristol Port and Pier Railway from the Powder House on the Avon. The view shows the massive slice of bank that was taken out of Shirehampton Park and a short train making its way towards Shirehampton in September 1883, eight years after the line opened. The tree-lined parkland setting above was to be assaulted twice again, once by the widening of the railway, and later the building of the Portway road, cutting the estate off from the river’s edge.
The most interesting view as far as we are concerned, is one from Kings Weston house looking out towards Penpole Point and Portishead beyond. This little sketch dates from 1857 and shows the woods and tree-scattered park stretching unbroken as far as the estuary. The foreground is dominated by two lime trees, around which a rustic seat is positioned to take best advantage of the view. These lime trees survive today next to the house at the western end of the coffee shop terrace, though the bench is now a distant memory.
Looking across the park from the shade of the lime trees outside Kings Weston house in 1857.
Finally!! A major milestone in the iron bridge restoration was reached at the end of last month, with the return of the historic structure, albeit 1.1 metres higher. Contractors started work early in the morning of the 30th May, bringing in a crane, the bridge strapped to a flat-loader, and closing the footpaths nearby for safety. A group of campaigners and visitors gathered at the west abutment to watch proceedings.
With spectators beyond, contractors watch as the first half of the freshly restored and painted bridge is craned back into place.
The east half of the bridge returns to meet its partner half way.
The bridge looks resplendent in its new livery of dark green paint, a colour picked to match the original colouring found beneath old paint layers. Contractors from Dorothea Restoration and Griffiths were on hand to make sure that the components would fit back together in their new position; not an easy task with the bearing stones having to be raised and reset at their new level.
The first section, the west end, was gradually lowered into place, and proved the more troublesome of the parts. After a bit of to-ing and fro-ing and cutting of the stonework it was eventually seated in position. The east end then followed, then the central plate that fastened the two ends of the bridge together. After some careful adjustment the whole structure was back in place and true.
Work will carry on now, touching up the new paintwork, erecting the steps either end, and fitting the handrails and railings to them. The road closure has been extended until the 15th to allow some of this work to be done, and the final completion is supposed to be the first week in July. Everyone is looking forward to being able to celebrate the reopening!
T he two halves back in place, awaiting the central joining connection.
The post office was the last building on the left, opposite the Lifeboat pub, in this view of High Street.
From at least the Eighteenth Century the landscape of Kings Weston has inspired poets, but a recent discovery is possibly the most peculiar yet. We chanced upon it in a Victorian book about the Post Office in Bristol. It was written by George Newton, sub-postmaster in Shirehampton, in reply to some query or complaint that had been directed to the Bristol Postmaster from Kings Weston house. Apparently, it was common for Mr Newton to respond to official enquiries in rhyme, “a course which was tolerated on account of its singularity and of the writer’s zeal and known devotion to his duty”. Newton died in 1895, so the following ditty must date before then:
Two of the 1904 boundary stones returned to their original locations on the west abutment of the bridge.
Something we’ve been eager to protect as part of the iron bridge works are the set of three stone markers that formerly nestled beneath undergrowth on the west abutment. Each stone is carved with the date, 1904, and CB, for City of Bristol. These marked the city boundaries between that date and 1935.
After the opening of Avonmouth Dock in 1877, the gradual development of the village of Avonmouth, and the purchase of the Docks by the Corporation in 1884, there was political impetus to bring the area within the city’s administrative boundary. The city had expanded quickly in the late 19th Century, but growth northwards from the historic boundary along the Downs was limited. Despite a strong argument for bringing everything between there and Avonmouth into the city it was only the Docks themselves that were eventually added in 1897. This left them as an isolated satellite part of the city, disconnected from the main administrative boundary.
Philip Napier Miles of Kings Weston was eager to develop his landholding around Avonmouth and Shirehampton. A plan for “Avonmouth as a city” was well advanced by 1902, with ambitious plans for thousands of acres of land laid out. It was perhaps this prospect that reinvigorated the arguments to bring more of the area within Bristol’s boundary; The 1904 Corporation Act was the mechanism to achieve this.
The city boundary shown shaded on the 1916 Ordnance Survey map, and with boundary markers marked as orange dots. Most of these remain today.
The Act did not go unchallenged, however. There was considerable opposition by residents in Stoke Bishop and Westbury on Trym who did not want to leave Gloucestershire and contribute the more onerous rates of Bristol. Amongst these objectors was Napier Miles himself; his concerns were that Kings Weston house would fall within the new boundary and that his landholding it would be reduced, in value and freedoms to develop it hindered. In the event, the Council changed the proposals to omit Kings Weston’s Home Park, instead taking a line from the iron bridge to The Circle, skirting the Georgian viewing terrace , before following the historic parish boundary through Penpole Wood. This satisfied the Council who’s intention to physically connect Avonmouth and Shirehampton with the rest of the city required only Shirehampton Park to be included. Napier Miles also secured a series of provisions from the Council that satisfied his concerns, and in August 1904 the Act received Royal assent.
The third marker on the corner north of the other two at the west abutment.
It can’t have been long before the city marked its new perimeter with permanent stone markers of the sort found at the iron bridge. Although they project just a couple of feet above ground, they are hefty stones, designed not to be easily moved or damaged, are about 5 feet in height. Another of these stones was spotted in 2016 when we came across it near the white oak. What’s less clear is why the boundary didn’t include Park Lodge and run up the west edge of Kings Weston Road rather than making an odd dog-leg to take it up to the bridge, resulting in the three markers we have today.
As part of the bridge works the contractors have carefully excavated the stones, kept them safe, and have now reinstalled them in their original locations. Whilst they are now little more than relics, their preservation allows new light to be shed on their historic interest.
