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Bacon's 'Essay on Gardens' # 56

Francis Bacon was born in 1561 and was 1st Viscount St Alban. He wrote his Essay on Gardens in 1625, a year before his death of pneumonia. He was also Lord Chancellor of England under King James I and led the advancement of both natural philosophy and scientific method and his works remained influential even in the late stages of the Scientific Revolution.  The essays he wrote between, mainly, 1612 and 1625 were about anything from love and marriage to superstitions to gardens and any subject in between! Bacon's genius as a phrase-maker appears to great advantage in the later essays and the 'Oxford Dictionary of Quotations' includes no fewer than 91 quotations...

Skools out for Summer! #58

When Hugo and Emily Meynell built Hoar Cross Hall they also included on their estate kitchen gardens, greenhouses, stables, a farm and cottages. Old Hall (their original home) was also on the estate and was accessed via a private road, which ran from the main road. By the time the seventies came along the stable block and Old Hall were private houses and another part of Old Hall had been made into a children’s home. Emily Meynell had started this home in the Victorian days, calling it ‘The Home of the Good Shepherd’ but it was for boys only at that time. When we were there it was a mixed home and run by a husband and wife couple. They used to have fetes t...

A New Year Calamity! #75

The New Year’s Eve Ball at Hoar Cross Hall was usually the highlight of the year.  After twelve months of hard work, especially running the Mediaeval Banquets twice a week through the winter, we were always ready to see out the year in style with a big new year party.  In those days it was always black tie for the men and long dresses for the ladies – usually around 500 people bought tickets for an evening of entertainment with a dance band, disco and a meal.  At midnight a man dressed in traditional Scottish regalia, including a kilt and sporran, would pipe in the new year with his bagpipes.  Down the Long Gallery he would slowly walk and into the Ballr...

Christmas High Jinks #87

Here's a true story to get you in the mood for Christmas!  My brother and I were definitely not good children and we were always amazed that Santa still left us gifts on Christmas Eve!  We were like 'elves behaving badly'!  Hope you enjoy it! The sounds of "La Golondrina" floated through the air as Viv sat at the grand piano.  How pleased she was that someone had asked them to look after this fine musical instrument for a few months.  Having learned to play when she was younger, this gave Viv the opportunity to brush up on her skills as a pianist and she was thoroughly enjoying it.  The piano was in the Library and suited the room perfectly.  She could h...

A Christmas Celebration #89

The final Christmas blog this year is a story of how the servants celebrated Christmas at Hoar Cross Hall, based around true events.  The Meynells always gave a party for their servants and local tradesmen in the Long Gallery, and I imagine it went a bit like this!     “Come on, look sharp!” shouted Cook to her assistants in the kitchen.  “We’ve got a load of cooking to do for the Christmas party at the weekend and if you don’t get a move on there’ll be nothing to eat!” The kitchen maids looked at each other, stopped their gossiping and started to move a bit quicker.  Cook could be quite intimidating when she was in one of her moods.  The...

A New Year Calamity! #90

The New Year’s Eve Balls at Hoar Cross Hall were usually the highlight of the year during the 1970s.  After twelve months of hard work, especially running the Mediaeval Banquets twice a week through the winter, we were always ready to see out the year in style with a big new year party.  In those days it was always black tie for the men and long dresses for the ladies – usually around 500 people bought tickets for an evening of entertainment with a dance band, disco and a meal.  At midnight a man dressed in traditional Scottish regalia, including a kilt and sporran, would pipe in the new year with his bagpipes.  Down the Long Gallery he would slowly walk...