Tag Archives: shirehampton

A family affair: Maria Miles’ artwork

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. 

Poems from the Post Office

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:   

Penpole Point: A place for the people

Strictly speaking Penpole Point shouldn’t form part of the historic Kings Weston landscaped parkland; it has always been common land, separated from the private grounds by a stout estate wall, guarded by lodges. The land was of no agricultural use, exposed, and only offered sparse common grazing land, so perhaps little wonder that it was largely valueless and left for people and livestock to roam freely. Add to this the spectacular views once enjoyed looking across the Avon and Severn estuary and the rocky outcrop proved to be a popular destination for visitors and locals alike.
 

Buttercup-dotted meadow surrounds Penpole Compass Dial, the same spot we’ve just cleared. This postcard dates to the late 1930s. 


The focus of the Point itself was, and still is, the stone dial with its circular bench. Often misunderstood as an ornamental sundial it is in fact a 17th Century marker, set up by the Merchant Venturers, and used as a landmark by seafarers to calculate the safe passage into the mouth of the Avon. The bench was originally a wooden platform to access the upper surface of the dial and the carved compass on its top surface, likely used to take crude bearings for the location of ships moored in the channel. Whatever it’s intended use it provided a convenient bench for visitors to sit and take in the vast panorama below.

With greater appreciation of the picturesque and sublime that developed in the Georgian era the Point, with its rocky edges, and exposed situation appealed to the senses; at once beautiful, but simultaneously perilous and vulnerable to nature’s elemental forces. Notable artists came here to try and capture that experience, and whose paintings now appear in the collections of museums and galleries internationally.     

View of the River Severn near Kings Weston, Benjamin Barker, 1809. The rocks on Penpole Point in the foreground mirror the ominous clouds beyond. Penpole Lodge and in the far distance the Dial appear as fragile human interventions in a landscape of wild, sublime, grandeur.   Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection 

Our perception of the Point is today largely marred by the trees that have grown up, particularly on the west side, that rob the visitor of views of the ground on that side, and of an appreciation of the height and nature of the sudden drop. Hidden too are the exposed rocky outcrops and projecting slabs that once added to the rugged character; you can still find these in exposed spots beneath the Point, where the suffocating ivy relents and the thrusting geological beds create sheltered alcoves.
 
The wood that’s grown along this western edge has grown up since regular grazing ended on the common land; we don’t know when, but probably around the 1930s, perhaps after WWII. Views from the point are still remembered from as recently as the 1980s, but since then the onslaught of self-seeded ash and sycamore has cloaked the slope. For the intrepid explored  it’s still worth trekking through the woodland, passing through the hummocks of former quarries and below “The Rocks”.

An early 20th Century postcard view of The Rocks, looking back along Penpole Point, the dial and Penpole Lodge appearing on the left. Already trees and shrubs have begun to colonise the open grassland. 


The area was as popular recreation space as the Point itself, offering the visitor a rugged playground of exposed rocks and little dells. It was popular for picnickers seeking for a more convivial, sheltered spot than the open ground above the Point. It was also the location chosen for a series of famous local events; the open air church services. These were begun in 1910 by the local Vicar, Rev Powell, a provocative figure who was seldom far from controversy. The Rocks most likely provided a physical reminder of the hill of Calvary, fundamental to the Easter story. A makeshift pulpit was set up against Penpole Lane and the assembled crowd could gather in a natural amphitheatre of the rocks opposite to listen to the sermon and sing.

In the Rev Powell’s own words, written in 1914:        
“In the year 1910, 1911, 1911, and 1912 we held open air services in those beautiful surroundings. On Easter Monday of both this year and of last year, although no longer vicar of the parish, I repeated these services. The singing by a special choir, ably led by Mr Milton of Clifton, has always been a helpful feature. The natural formation of this valley-like spot lent itself to the sound of many voices” 

The Easter Service at Penpole Point in 1913, conducted by Rev Powell. He can be seen in the pulpit on the left on Penpole Lane, with crowds seated on the steep edges of the ridge. Penpole Lodge rises up above the tree line on the right. 
The same location as the 1913 Easter Service. Some features remain just recognisable, but today the area has been reclaimed by  woodland. 
Bristol Rock Cress growing still in the Avon Gorge. From Wildwings and Wanderings blo

Sadly the regular events ended in bitterness after a new vicar came to Shirehampton in 1912, and the Rev Powell’s continuation of “rival” services at Penpole caused friction. Powell to put his own side of the story in his book “Recent persecution in the church of England”.

It was this more rugged side of Penpole Point that offered rare habitat to Bristol Rockcress, a variety of wildflower found only in the Avon Gorge and, once here too. The crevices between rocks offered protection for the tiny plants. Like the drama of the place these too have succumbed to the growth of the trees and onslaught of ivy, overshadowing this once-unique habitat.

A group of labourers stop for lunch sat on the Penpole ridge in the 1900s, each with their own flagon. 

Gold rewards!

For all the hard work volunteers put in at the end of last year to clear the area below the viewing terrace I don’t think anyone could quite have predicted such a huge reward in the THOUSANDS of daffodils that have exploded into life this spring. Swathes of these were completely engulfed last year, but this year they are about to put on a real show! Just last September this was the scene: http://www.kwag.org.uk/gallery/jan-18th-2014-2/sept-2013-return-to-the-viewing-terrace/

We recommend next weekend as being the best time to see the whole slope alight with them!

c a b d