Deep in Penpole Wood lie the half-forgotten remains of a small cottage. Now just a few fragments of wall and some undulations in the forest floor, this was once the Keeper’s home.
As far as we’ve been able to ascertain, the house was built after 1845, so would have been an addition made by the Miles Family who then owned the Kings Weston estate. It may even have been designed by Philip William Skinner Miles, who considered himself something of an amateur architect and is responsible for much minor work around the parkland.
the south-west corner of the cottage survives as a few courses of stone amongst the forest floor.
The location at the foot of the Penpole Ridge once enjoyed views northward across open fields of the parkland, but today’s woodland margins have long extended to encompass it. It is assumed that any game shooting would have taken place in these fields with pheasant or other birds bred in the woodland before release. The location of a gamekeeper’s cottage on the boundary between these two areas makes sense in this context.
1884 map with the location of the cottage marked, being sited downhill almost directly north of Penpole Lodge.
The cottage itself was small, but not without some architectural pretention. From early photos we can see it was of two storeys and its main frontage to the north and west were carefully composed with attractively proportioned casement windows and Tudor-style drip-mouldings carried across each. It had a smart hipped roof, slate-covered, and a pair of tall chimneys, again in the Tudor manner. The whole building was finished in rough-cast render, some which still clings to the walls today. It must have had quite a picturesque effect when viewed from the fields, sitting with a heavily wooded backdrop, with its a small garden and smoke drifting from its prominent chimneys a sign of domestic life within.
Keeper’s Cottage from the west, with the McEwen family and their dog Gyp.
These two photographs record the Keepers Cottage in 1921 when it was the home of the McEwen family. Arthur McEwan was head of the family and is seen with his wife Lilian, and their children Winifred and Arthur John, the latter just glimpsed at the door. The dog was Gyp.
Winifred, later Mrs Pople, remembers that in her childhood she carried buckets of water down the steep path from Penpole Lodge where Mrs Turk kept a tank filled with drinking water. Her mother, only 4’ 11”, nearly fell down the well they used, so the water tank was installed by Squire Miles as a safer, if less convenient, source.
The Keepers Cottage with the McEwen family outside in 1921A similar angle today, the cottage now rubble under the forest floor.
The house remained occupied until WWII. By then the district Scout groups owned the land and the cottage and it was referred to as the Lower Lodge. With the outbreak of the war parts of their property were commandeered by the RAF and the Home Guard. The wardens wrote that “We had viewed with some concern the activities of the Home Guard when the took over the Lower (lodge)” and it suffered badly during this time.
A few tiles were damaged by the explosion of a high explosive bomb nearby, but the house survived only to become the target of “local roughs”. By 1944 it had suffered badly from “wanton destruction” in the absence of regular use and, when the woods were sold to the Council in 1947, it’s unlikely that it was in habitable condition. It’s believed at this time the Council took the place down to prevent it from becoming the focus of more vandalism.
the north-west corner of the cottage under the greenery. Part of the original render clings on.
The walls survive to shin-height though sycamores now fight their way through the old floors. In the future it would be a good job for KWAG to clear around these ruins, measure and record them, and make sure there is some preservation before they are lost for all time.
It was a bit of a surprise to find that well-rummaged archives can still turn up some historic Kings Weston gems. A recent return to Bristol Archives turned up, by chance, an interesting new estate plan. Perhaps we’d seen it before and thought it was a copy of a better known one, or perhaps we’d never thought it would be of any interest, but when it was delivered to the reading room by the archivists it was great interest.
The whole of the large velum plan showing the estates of the Southwell family around Kings Weston house.One of the ornamental title blocks added by Isaac Taylor to his earlier bound estate survey.
We’ve regularly used snippets and details of another estate plan, drawn in 1772 by a surveyor called Isaac Taylor, to illustrate some of our stories, and you’ll find it as a base layer on the Know Your Place website. On the website it’s been carefully pieced together from the many double-page spreads from the book in which they’re bound. Sadly, this means that some of the picturesque details around the map are missed off.
The new estate map is also drawn by Tailor, but is instead a single rolled large-format map of the entirety of the Kings Weston estate. It is dated 1773, the date after the bound series of maps and no doubt commissioned by the Southwell Family as an alternative way of keeping track of their estates. Unlike the 1772 survey, this later version is at a larger scale. It’s also different in showing clear signs of having been updated and altered in a different hand. These changes appear to reflect changes in ownership of parcels of land and redraw detail that has become feint or worn through use.
Detail of the new estate plan showing the park around the house.
The 1773 survey is a vast and unwieldy document. It certainly shows the enormous scale of the estate in a more complete way than the individual portions in the bound volume, although without quite such the fitness of drawing. The cartouche carrying the details of the map is less elaborate, but there’s something else almost hidden under the dirt that’s accumulated on the velum over the centuries – drawings!
There are two, one in each corner on the left hand side. Sadly, they are very dirty and difficult to make out. The lower one is a scene on the Avon at Lamplighters, but very little detail is discernible to be of much interest. The other is more interesting to the Kings Weston story, being a rare early depiction of the house itself from the south. The drawing is better preserved, but is still badly stained and dirty. The house is recognisable on the right hand side, with the pediment of the Loggia just visible over the top of the shrubbery. Also discernible is the avenue of lime trees approaching from the left. The planting differs little from today, though trees and shrubs have definitely matured from the illustrated state.
The images presented here have been enhanced to try and bring out some of the detail.
Detail of the new drawing showing the top of the Loggia above the tree line. Note also the difference on the design of the top of the garden front of the house.
Both notable families of Kings Weston, the Southwell’s in the eighteenth Century and the Miles’s in the Nineteenth, were heavily involved in politics. As might be expected from any wealthy landholder, they were keen to protect their own interests as much as serve in the country’s interests. It’s not surprising therefore, to find that five owners of the estate would serve in the House of Commons, and two in the House of Lords.
Members of the Southwell family were also involved in court life and as part of Government outside of their constituency responsibilities. What’s perhaps odd to us today is that many communities they were elected to represent were very remote from their home.
Edward Southwell II of Kings Weston (1739-1754), MP for Bristol 1739-1754
Sir Robert Southwell retired to Kings Weston from Court life in London in 1679, relinquishing his Government roles and choosing not to stand again for elected as MP for Penryn in Cornwall where he’d served for six years. After William III took the throne he returned to government and was elected for Lostwithiel in 1685.
In 1702 his Son, Edward (1671-1730) was put forward as a candidate at Rye. The election went against him, but after a legal hearing in the elections committee the vote was overturned in his favour because of ‘illegal’ interference in the election. Again, Rye was very far from the Southwell’s interests and was probably what we’d consider a safe seat. Similar might be said for later elections as MP for Tregony in 1713, where he served a matter of months before a General Election, before finding favour in Preston.
As the 18th century progressed, power gradually transferred from the monarch to the House of Commons. Politics came more polarised, voters expected better representation, and political parties were a growing force. The importance of local people representing local interests also increased. Edwad Southwell II (1739-1754) was the first of his family to represent a local constituency.
When Edward was 33, one of the two MPs for Bristol, Thomas Coster, was reported in ill health and subsequently died. Even before the death was announced, Edward had already determined t throw his lot in and seek election to the vacant seat.
We’re fortunate to have a journal he kept, detailing the various machinations in the lead-up to the election in December. This gives a fascinating insight into the process and how Edward built alliances to gain support.
At the start of October, he begins:
“I had private acts and many affairs to settle to my steward Francis Benning at Kingsweston which inclined me to undertake the journey from London, but on the news he sent me of Mr Coster’s (The member of parliament) desperate state of health, I determined upon the journey after consulting my wife at how I should act in case of being invited to stand at the election, who freely bid me neither regard her nor her condition (she being then 6 months gone with child) nor my son, whereover my honour or credit or the service of my Country required my absence of stay. “
Kings Weston house in 1746, during which time Edward Southwell II was MP for the city.
On arrival in Bristol 6th October he headed directly to the Tolsey on Corn Street where the magistrates of the city sat and much business where:
“Mr Berkeley stand me and I promised him and Mr Chester my Interest for the County which being so publick was much taken notice of. NB. Mr Coster was buried the night before at the Cathedral abd every bell in the City tolled for him from morning till night.”
He was disappointed to find that there was initially a lukewarm response to his interest, his closeness to Government and court life being held in some suspicion:
“Upon finding the name of a courtier was so obnoxious, I cooled much in my ambition of standing, I considered I was the King’s Servant, I had ever owed and paid him a personal duty and had ever gone to his court, and that I had my own principles and character to maintain as well as my duty to my country, and determined I would never yield up my respect to the King”
A handbill printed for Southwell’s supporters to circulate around the city.
This might not have been an attractive attitude for the former supporters of Mr Coster, who were clearly looking for a more liberal representative in line with Whig politics. The Whig’s opposed absolute monarchy, championed parliamentary power, and individual liberty. He was forced into a position of defending his independence in order to find favour with them. Edward wrote,
“that if Mr Coster’s friends set up a man in my station, the magistrates could be able to make no opposition and that the party would take a moderate man, and were not as violent as I imagined. I told him I ever had and ever would pay a personal duty and respect to his Magesty and his Royal Family, that my place of Secretary of State for Ireland was for life and worth little more that 200 guineas per annum, and that I had refused applying for my father’s additional sallery of £300 pounds because I never would accept aan pension, but I would live independent.”
Mr Coster’s friends came round to the prospect of a gentleman of status representing them, declaring him their candidate albeit cautiously.
By November, election fever had taken over the City and Southwell found himself campaigning against Henry Coombe. Naturally, every opportunity was taken by candidates to influence voters and their supporters. Handbills and pamphlets were common, usually from alleged anonymous advocates of the candidates, particularly if they were more vicious in nature.
The punch bowl made at Brislington pottery in 1739, probably used to curry favour and influence voters.
The house at Kings Weston came into its own at these times, offering the perfect showcase of the Southwell’s taste wealth, and influence, where voters could be entertained on a lavish scale. The Gloucester Journal reported “The Honourable Mr Southwell has kept open house at Shirehampton ever since he has declared. There are constantly employed a baker, a butcher, and two brewers to provide for the reception of all comers and goers”
Another testament to the interest the election created is a punch bowl now in Bristol’s Museum and Art Gallery. It was commissioned from the Brislington pottery, famed for their tin-glazed ‘delft’ wares, and would have been recognisable as an expensive item at the time. Decorated in rich colours in the Chinese style of the outside, it’s only when the guests would have drained most of the contents they would discover the slogan “Southwell for ever” and the election date inside the bowl. Perhaps once they’d drunk so much, they might have been more susceptible to the political message held within.
Inside the punch bowl, the political motivation behind its manufacture becomes clear
He was declared winner on 12th December, 2651 votes to Combe’s 2203. His journal, now held in Bristol Archives, then transforms from a record of the campaign to a catalogue of the petitions and constituency work that were the inevitable outcome of political position.
Southwell remained true to his promise of independence, showing no consistency in supporting either Whig or Tory, Administration or Opposition, positions. Although perhaps true to the wishes and interests of Bristol, Southwell’s unreliability attracted few friends in the House. The 2nd Lord Egmont, related to Southwell by marriage, wrote dismissively of his kinsman:
“Southwell is a weak man. Has an affectation of being supposed to act according to his conscience, which directs him to vote one day for a proposition in a committee, and the very reverse the next day and in the House. They think him an honest man at Bristol but they have no opinion of his understanding and I believe if occasion were, he might be easily changed—But if not he will be as often for us as against us!”
Despite frustrating other politicians, Southwell maintained support from Bristol’s voters, representing the city until 1754, when, due to ill health, he chose not to stand. He died the following year.
It would be the same 2nd Lord Egmont who’d criticised him who would support Edwards son, Edward II (1738-1776) for election to Bridgewater in 1761. Seeing an opportunity to represent his native Gloucestershire, he declared as candidate two years later. He represented the county for thirteen years before being elevated to the House of Lords in April 1776 and vacating the seat.
A recent visit to Bristol Museum and Art Gallery came with something of a surprise. Hanging on the wall of the British and European Art: The Age of Enlightenment and the Birth of Romanticism gallery is a pair of paintings we recognised immediately as being from Kings Weston!
Venice, the Molo by Canaletto, now at Bristol Museum and Art Gallery
The paintings are by none other than Canaletto, and it’s after them that the Canaletto Room in Kings Weston house was named. The two paintings were auctioned in 2002 from the collection of Southwell family portraits still in the ownership of the family trust. The sale paid for the expensive restoration of the rest of the collection, but the two Canaletto’s went into private hands. They are now hanging in the museum on a five-year loan from a private collection.
The two paintings were originally bought for Kings Weston by Edward Southwell II. At 21 the young Southwell had been dispatched to the Continent on his grand tour, returning home in August 1726. It appears that it was only in the following year that Southwell purchased the first two paintings through Owen Mc Sweeney (or Swiny). Mc Sweeny had become resident in the Italian city in 1721, becoming agent for several artists and selling his works to English gentlemen on the Grand Tour. It may be that Southwell placed orders for the paintings when he was in Venice in early summer 1726, for them to be sent to him the following year.
Venice, Piazza San Marco by Canaletto, now at Bristol Museum and Art Gallery
The latter wrote to the Duke of Richmond in 1727: “The pieces which Mr. Southwell has, (of Canals painting) were done for me, and they cost me 70 sequeens. The fellow is whimsical and vary’s his prices every day: and he that has a mind to have any of his work, must not seem to be too fond of it, for he’ll be ye worse treated for it, both in the price and in the painting too. He has more work than he can doe, in any reasonable time, and well: but by the assistance of a particular friend of his, I get once in two months a piece sketch’d out and a little time after finished, by force of bribery. l send yr Grace by Captain Robinson [ … ] who sails from hence tomorrow, Two of the Finest pieces, I think he ever painted and of the same size with Mr. Southwell’ s little ones (which is a size he excels in)”.
It’s worth noting that Mc Sweeney was an Irishman and Southwell maintained strong links with his ancestral homeland, shortly to become Secretary of State to that Kingdom in succession after his father. The pair may have connected in Venice over a patriotic bond.
Edward Southwell II, 1705-1755, who commissioned Canaletto’s paintings.
Edward Southwell became one of the earliest gentlemen to boast Canaletto’s amongst their collections, at the forefront of a trend that would eventually see the artist coming to England to satisfy demand for his paintings.
By 1777 there were four paintings by Canaletto hanging at Kings Weston. Is it possible that Southwell had returned from Venice with a pair in 1726, the two commissioned through Mc Sweeney adding to the collection?
The four views of Venice were hung together in the Dressing Room of Lady de Clifford, a large first floor reception room with a bay window overlooking the Severn. Here, most of the family’s best and most intimate paintings were to be found, those intended to be seen by the family’s closest friends and most important guests. They were clearly held in high regard.
When the last in the line of Southwells, the 21st Baron de Clifford, died and his property was sold in a series of London Auctions, the paintings were described and “St Mark’s Quay” and “St Mark’s Place – the companion”. The original attribution to Canaletto was later amended in the catalogue to name Guardi, another Venetian artist, as their creator. They sold for £31 and £25 respectively, possibly bought back by family members. But what of the other two recorded in the house a generation before?
In a year when a number of other paintings that once hung at Kings Weston have gone to auction, it’s gratifying to find two such important paintings being shared with the public so generously.
Kings Weston was the country estate of the Southwell’s from 1675 to 1832, but every landed family of note also maintained a London address. The Southwell’s were no exception, and their interest in London pre-dated their acquisition of Kings Weston.
Sir Robert Southwell, 1635-1702
Sir Robert Southwell made himself indispensable to the government of King Charles II on his return from his Grand Tour of Europe in 1662. By 1665 he had been knighted and held important government and diplomatic roles. Four years later he was sufficiently well off to purchase a lease from the Crown for his own property close to the heart of Court life in Whitehall.
He bought the reversionary lease on a parcel of land called Spring Gardens that backed on to St James’s Park. There was a brick-built house here, around 20 years old, and a small park, where he set up home.
Sir Robert’s circle of friends was drawn heavily from other members of the Royal Society. His interest in the Natural Sciences had encouraged him to become an early member of this auspicious group of learned gentlemen. One of his closest friendships was with Robert Hooke; Southwell was noted for his outgoing and genial character whilst Hooke was a man noted for his difficult and irritable temperament, but the two bonded over their interest in science.
Hooke was one of the most important and prolific scientists of the era. As well as interests in astronomy, geology, mechanics, and microscopy, Hooke was an accomplished architect, perhaps second only to Sir Christopher Wren at the time. Indeed, he succeeded Wren as Surveyor of the Royal Works in 1670. Perhaps his best known work is the monument to the Great Fire of London, still standing close to the site where the fire began. It was to his friend that, in 1674, Southwell turned to provide drawings for the rebuilding of his Spring Gardens house and paid him 5 guineas for his trouble.
The plans of Spring Gardens house in the Kings Weston Book of Drawings (Bristol Archives)
A drawing survives today in Bristol Archives that likely represents Hooke’s plan for the building. It was a substantial town house for the era, its status marked by being set detached in its own grounds. It was designed with two wide frontages of seven bays each, set out over four floors, with the semi-basement housing services and the attic of garret floor being the usual servants’ accommodation. The family rooms occupied two floors: ground floor elevated above the street by nine steps and ’piano nobile’ at first floor equipped with a large dining room where grandstand views across St James’s Park could be obtained.
Spring Gardens house seen from the west, roughly from above where Buckingham Palace is today
The external appearance of Sir Robert’s new house is detailed in an engraving of 1720, after his son Edward had inherited it but largely unchanged. Here it is in its ‘perfect’ state, before alterations and development around it. It was a smart but unostentatious building, brick-built but with stone quoins at its corners. As was fashionable at the time, it had a modillion course (a projecting cornice) supporting a hipped roof. The engraving shows a balustrade around the leads of the roof, providing an elevated position for guests to enjoy distant views across the park. The gardens around the house are depicted behind high walls, formally arranged, and with ornamental garden buildings dotted about.
The location of Spring Gardens house in 1730 and in 1778, showing the Southwell’s own development gradual encroaching on their house and garden.
As might be expected, land in London was valuable. Even though much of Court life moved away after Whitehall Palace burned, Westminster remained the seat of Government, and at the periphery of the Royal Park, land was in demand. The Southwell’s had begun capitalising on their central-London estate by gradually developing it with new houses. Already, in 1668, in Sir Robert’s time, new houses were built to let.
Initially, new houses were large, detached, and with their own gardens, but made inefficient use of the land. By the early 18th Century the market demand for courtly town houses had waned, replaced by a demand from politicians and civil servants for houses close to their places of work. Sir Robert’s grandson, also Edward (II), quickly reordered the London estate when he inherited in 1730. He set out a formal new street of smart terraced town houses preluded with a new chapel for its residents. He also allowed the gradual encroachment of buildings on the family’s home.
The back of the house is seen on the right in 1884, Over the garden wall, the additional storey and polygonal bay can be seen. The National Gallery can be seen across Trafalgar Square in the background.
Spring Gardens house remained the family’s primary London residence, the family alternating between here and Kings Weston seasonally, or when business or society dictated. Significant sums were invested on extensive renovations in the early 1750s. It’s not clear who the architect of these works would have been, but both the interior and exterior were modernised in fashionable taste; hipped roofs were done away with or hidden behind Palladian parapets; an additional storey was added to the garden front; a new polygonal bay in the same elevation became its focal point, its crown ornamented with a stone balustrade.
Another view of the garden front of Spring Gardens when the stone balustrade still topped the bay window. c.1880s.
Eventually, the street frontage of the house was bookended by more Georgian town houses, the only indication of its higher status being its set-back from the street. A rather unsightly high wall created some privacy from the pavement, whilst a long single-storey passage and pedimented entrance brought the front door directly to the street.
The northern, street frontage, of the house in 1886. The historic volume of the 1674 house is dwarfed by later Georgian development. A late-19th Century photograph recording the house before demolition. The front door was extended to the street from the original building line
With Edward Southwell III’s elevation to the House of Lords as Baron de Clifford in 1776, the house now lacked the social status appropriate to his station, but on his untimely death the year later he left it to his wife Sophia; she appears to have been the last of the family to live there. Their son, Edward, 21st Baron de Clifford, the last of the Southwell’s of Kings Weston, built himself a new London residence in Carlton House Terrace in 1827.
The old house survived, converted to offices for the Admiralty, but was finally erased in favour of new purpose-built Admiralty offices. Today, the site lies beneath the northern wing of Admiralty Arch spanning The Mall connecting Buckingham Palace with Trafalgar Square.
The rough location of Spring Gardens house on the modern layout of central London.
An old master oil painting, once the collections of the Southwell family of Kings Weston house, has recently been advertised for auction. We note, with disappointment, that it has recently been released from the large collection of historic Kings Weston paintings held in trust by the descendants of the Southwell’s, later Barons de Clifford.
Christ in the House of Simon the Pharisee, one of the Old Master paintings once given pride of place in Lady de Clifford’s private chambers.
Formerly Lady de Clifford’s Dressing Room, this “long and lofty” space once had “no equal in the Kingdom” and was hung with paintings “the subjects in general are small, but they are of the first excellence” . Seen during work in 2014.
The painting, Christ in the House of Simon the Pharisee, is first recorded hanging in Lady de Clifford’s dressing room decorated in blue silk damask. This room is now the first floor room with the bay window overlooking the Severn. Here it accompanied some of the best of the family’s collection of paintings, the most intimate, and intended only for view by them or their most special guests. On the surrounding walls were works by Claude Lorrain, Nicolas Poussin, Annibale Carracci, Pietro da Cortona, and four paintings by Canaletto.
An inventory of the contents of the house in 1777 describes the painting as “The washing of our saviour’s feet” and the artist as “Old Frank”. This attribution has now been revised and is now considered to be by his son, Frans Francken the younger (1581-1642). The 18th-century attribution to Francken the Elder likely stems from the signature “D.o. ffranck,” where “D.o.” stands for the Flemish de oude, meaning “the Elder.” However, this signature was actually used by Frans Francken the Younger from the late 1620s. Prior to the death of his father in 1616, he had signed his works as “the young Frans Francken.”
Engraving of the artist Frans Francken the Younger ( 1581-1642) by Van Dyke.
Whilst the auctioneer suggests that it come to Kings Weston courtesy of the second Edward Southwell (1705-1755), it’s more likely to have been during one of Sir Robert Southwell’s journeys across the Low Countries that it was purchased or perhaps his son, Edward’s travels in 1697; it’s not included in an inventory of pictures at Kings Weston from 1695, so perhaps the latter is more probable.
The framed painting shortly to be sold
The painting remained at Kings Weston until the last of the direct line of the Southwell Family, The 21st Baron de Clifford, died in 1832. With no direct heir, he willed that the contents of the house be sold in its entirety. The painting, by this time described as Mary Magdalen washing the feet of Christ and attributed to Old Franks, sold for £10 10 shillings, as much as a painting by the more famous Poussin. As was common, it’s likely that a family member bought back a number of paintings, perhaps one of the nieces who were the ultimate beneficiaries of the sale.
We last saw the painting just outside Taunton where the family trust stored much of the collection of paintings. The circumstances and reason for it leaving such an important private collection are unknown, but we’ll endeavour to find out. If anyone were interested in returning it to Kings Weston, it will be sold via Dreweatts auction house on November 4th and the current estimate is £20-30,000!
It was rewarding to meet so many old students at the Kings Weston open day. Some remember their time at junior school between 1949 and 1959, or the following decade when it performed duties as part of Bristol College of Science and Technology (later Bath University). We’re grateful for Robert Spereall for remembering his promise at last year’s Heritage Open Day and returning with copies of a couple of old school photos. Even better, he’s been able to identify almost all of his classmates in them!
Left to right: Top Row: David Chappel; Philip Knight; Graham Cook; June James; unknown; Diane Meacker; John Curtis; Roger Ford; Ivor Lewis; Mr Mead (Headmaster)
Middle Row: Richard Corner; Edwin Smith; Robert Spereall; Ronnie Wewall; Stephen Bolton; Keith Goddard; Malcolm Campbell; David Greening; unknown; Jeff Turkington; Richard Dewfall.
Can you help with another photo of a class at Kings Weston? This one has been in our collection for some time, but we don’t know the names. If you can help, or fill in some of the gaps in the photos above, drop us an email at kwactiongroup@gmail.com .
Following our focus on the Lily Pond, we were delighted to have some terrific photographs of it in happier times shared with us. Ken Osborne kindly directed us to these photos in his collection that show the pond in the 1950s.
In one, children take advantage of the open access at the west end to go pond dipping under the care of a couple of adults resting on the parapet wall; it certainly seems to have been a popular activity for a sunny afternoon. A notice attached to the lodge warns “action will be taken against any person found fishing or throwing litter in the pond”. We imagine the children will have got permission for their little ‘fishing’ even
A panorama of photos stitched together to show the lilypond in the 1950s.
One of the surviving fruit trees, still with it’s fan-shaped branches, but now less formally trained.
We’ve managed to splice a few of these into a long panorama showing the view from Napier Miles Road, and the fruit trees still trained across the back walls in glorious fan patterns. Some of these trees still grow today, a delicious couple of pear trees have become unruly, but still fruit in abundance.
The gardens around the pond were noted for the abundance of their crop, and the excellent conditions they offered for even delicate fruit. An article in The Garden magazine in July 1900 remarks on the hardiness of fig trees here. Again, some of these survive in the grounds, and were noted then for “individual fruits attaining to a very large size and ripening perfectly”. The author writes that “there are few gardens in which figs thrive and continue productive over so many years” and that they were “enviable to visitors whose ambition in fig culture cannot be satisfied to anything like the extent which obtain here under the most simple rules of culture”.
A couple of young ladies pause on the parapet wall of the pond for a chat, some time in the 1950s.
The War Memorial after the inauguration crowds had receded on 4th September 1921.
A new photo has come to us that will be of interest to many of you. The unveiling of Shirehampton’s War Memorial was held on Sunday 4th September 1921. Designed in the manner of a medieval wayside cross, it was given a dignified position at the top of Park Hill. The site at the corner of Shirehampton Road and Penpole Lane was once more prominent than it is today, and on the edge of the landscaped parkland nestled between long avenues of trees.
The land had been donated by Kings Weston’s owner, Philip Napier Miles, who also chaired the committee tasked with the memorial’s erection. It was his estate architect, Ernest Newton, who had been given the task of designing a fitting memorial to carry the 57 names of local men lost in the war.
The newly discovered photo records the scene of the unveiling from the Shirehampton Park side of the road, the cross surrounded by sun-bathed spectators keen to mark their respects. Ropes that may have released some sort of curtain still hang from the crosshead. It’s also a tantalising glimpse of the timber building set up over the new reservoir built by the Bristol Water Co.
A bill was set before parliament in June 1920 to enable the company to build several new works, including a new reservoir to serve the growing Bristol suburbs of Shirehampton and Avonmouth. As originally planned, this was to be in a field west of the cricket club, but at some point the site changed to a spot on the north side of Penpole Lane. Sadly, this required part of the landscaped grounds to be compulsorily purchased for the deep tank and the incongruous-looking large sheds protecting the water from contamination. The Bill was passed in May 1921, so it looks as though work was quick to start, or had already begun before the new facility was photographed in September that year. It’s not clear what Napier Miles thought of this intrusion into the landscape, but challenging a Government Bill would have been a financially challenging prospect.
The reservoir survives today, emptied, and converted as the Karakal works, albeit now with a steel shed covering. Strange as it seems, the reservoir is now over a century old!
The newly discovered view with the twin roofs of the newly-built reservoir seen beyond the crowds. The War Memorial stands proud in the centre.
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.
