The Ham Nomads

25 Apr 2014. <GB-ENG> Brodsworth, Yorks; Chester, Ches —

Woke up in Huddersfield. Susie had noticed a visitor in the field behind us overnight — a fox! A brisk morning, a little drizzle, but nothing to complain of. Got ourselves up and about by 8:30, by which time Simon had come to open up. He helped us with all the 'chores' involved with keeping the van ship-shape, and we bought some toilet chemicals from him. He also gave us some great advice about our gas — that we think about setting the van up with a refillable system, at the cost of about £700 and a day or so's work on the van. Then we would be independent of the various cylinder types in the various countries we will be travelling to — and they're all different! And we will be able to fill up at virtually any fuel stop from the LPG bowser! We'll look into it as soon as we are in the vicinity of a dealership that can do it for us.

Brodsworth Hall

Then drove about 30 miles south-west of Huddersfield, to Brodsworth Hall. The estate was bought by a very wealthy French aristocrat ex-patriate in about 1820 (remember the revolution?). He took a dislike to the Georgian mansion already on the site, which he promptly had demolished, and he had constructed a delightful early Victorian mansion, which was completed in the incredible time of 18 months. No expense was spared. As for furnishings, he was a little more mundane, and effectively furnished the entire house from the catalogue of one London supplier. Similarly for the statues both inside and throughout the gardens — they were all but two bought as a job lot from an exhibition in Dublin.

The house, and the will of its original owner, are famous in English history, as the will was contested for a period of 60 years, becoming the sole means of support of at least 3 law firms for that whole period — and it was ultimately upheld in any case! And the mentions of a wealthy French landowner in Dickens's Bleak House and also A Tale of Two Cities are presumed to be of this gentleman!

The whole house passed through four generations, becoming increasingly more expensive to keep up, until its last owner, Lady Sylvia, offered it free and clear to the country. The National Trust couldn't afford to take it, as the grant excluded the lands (as Lady Sylvia still depended on the income from these to live on), and the National Trust is a charity that gets no funding from the government so would have needed this income to spend on the upkeep of the house. English Heritage was still receiving government money at that time (no longer, unfortunately), so they could afford to accept the benefaction. They decided on a policy of conservation rather than of restoration, so we see the house much in the run-down condition it was in 1988 when they took it over. All the water damage, light damage and insect damage have been stopped in their tracks and the underlying causes cured, or at least minimised in the case of light damage.

Our tour group
in the Entry Hall

... and the Dining
Room

We wandered the house after having been taken through for a 45-minute guided tour by a lass who obviously loved what she was doing, and loved the history of the house. We learned all the above, and of how the place was commandeered by the army as a communications base during WWII. We also learned the history of the servants of the house, who were just as important a part of its fabric.

Edith the cook's chair in the Scullery

A very pleasant few hours. It was really too wet by then to explore the grounds and the gardens, magnificent as they are, so we had some soup and bread in the van, and then set off for Chester to set us up for tomorrow.

Traffic! Rain! Fog! We got it all, so instead of getting in to Chester by about 4pm to check out how we should approach the Cathedral tomorrow, we redirected ourselves to Chester Zoo where we might park overnight. Didn't even get there. Decided to stop off at a Roadchef rest stop (McDonalds, Costa Coffee, Fresh Food Café, and even a bunch of pokies — and a lot more. The first time we tried to get in from the roundabout it runs off, its entrance was blocked off by men we presumed to be road workers. We went to the next turnout which we presumed went to the same site, but instead it took us back along the motorway, and it was about 8 miles before we could turn around to come back. This time the entrance of the rest stop was clear, so we turned in to it — the problem was a car accident (have I mentioned it was raining pretty hard!) — but we finally got there, and had a fine meal of fish, chips and mushy peas, followed by fresh grapes, the whole washed down with Costa Coffee!

Distance driven — today, 146 miles (235 km ); to date, 276 miles (445 km )