Norma C Plummer Stories
DREAM CASTLES
A mortgage-free home situated near a golf course, or an island get-away
are the dreams of some people. A few dream of castles, and actually
follow through with their extravagant idea.
Unless the chosen castle happens to be a current reproduction, castle
dreamers must expect to repair, remodel, redecorate and refinance on a
grand scale. Any available authentic castles will be centuries old.
However, many castle dreamers toss all of these considerations into
their wheelbarrows, and carry on.
On the plus aide, castles provide plenty of space for those who wish a
library, miles of wall space for paintings, a bowling alley, and, of
course, facilities for stabling riding horses. There will also be acres
of grounds on which to design elaborate gardens.
Castle buyers have a tendency to merit titles, ending up as either Sir
Somebody, or Lord and Lady Somebody. Visitors to castles are another
bonus. Invited or not, they arrive in greater numbers than those who
show up on a holiday weekend at your summer cottage. On occasion,
visitors may be royalty, since the castle clan is living in an abode of
historic significance, which likely had some connection with their regal
heritage.
Another fortunate feature is that a property of this size usually
includes a few extra buildings, which come in handy for temporary
shelter, while the castle itself is made habitable - thus sparing the
expense of renting a trailer, or tent
Lets follow some real members of the castle contingent. First we have
the couple, Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicolson.
If you were married to Vita, a clever, independent woman, who was of a
romantic disposition and wrote novels, perhaps Sissinghurst Castle, two
miles from Cranbrook in Kent, would be just the place to live
She grew up in the famous 165-room mansion 'Knole'. Her husband Harold
was a clever diplomat and writer too, who in 1930 agreed that they
should purchase Sissinghurst Castle without delay.
Up until 1800 the place had the attributes of a castle, but the remnants
of what had not crumbled or tumbled down, scarcely fitted the category.
The Nicolsons, however, caught up in some vague charm of Sissinghurst,
took on the huge task of saving it from total ruin.
For one thing, the main two-storey brick building stretched its gloomy
length in the style of a barracks. This part actually served to house
several hundred French prisoners of the Seven Years War (1756-1763);
3,000 seamen prisoners were later herded in. To say that this building
resembled a Dickensian workhouse would also be correct, for it had been
used in that capacity as well.
By opening up the bricked archway in this huge barracks, a square stone
tower could be better appreciated, as it peered from behind its meaner
neighbour. This tower was commodious enough for decent rooms, and when
approached on foot between stately yews, made an impressive contribution
to Sissinghurst.
The couple found a smaller house in which to live while work proceeded
on the main section. Vita and Harold used the 'South Cottage’ in the
back corner of their property.
By June 8th, 1937, Harold was able to sincerely compliment Vita on her
most successful endeavour with the Sissinghurst Gardens. She had shown
excellent taste in the types of flowers displayed. Each separate garden
had its own appeal: Rose Garden, Cottage Garden, White Garden, Herb
Garden, along with orchards, Kitchen Garden, Nuttery, and Lime-Walk.
Perhaps these were Sissinghurst's greatest attractions, for the living
quarters seemed to outsiders to be strangely fragmented.
The South Cottage contained bedrooms, and Harold's sitting-room. Then a
small Elizabethan house, called the Priest's House, to the left of the
Tower, housed the kitchen, dining-room, and the bedroom of their
schoolboy sons, Ben and Nigel. At least the kitchen and dining-room were
on speaking terms. Vita's sitting-room was located on the first floor of
the Tower. Later a library was made on the ground floor of the north
wing of the long brick building, with separate rooms for the boys above
it. The south wing became the premises of cook and chauffeur.
The only other remaining early portion of the castle was the moat — left
unto itself, its only excuse for existence, a medieval house, long gone.
With these living arrangements, and no covered connection by means of
cloister, loggia, or breezeway, the family must have enjoyed their
privacy, while praying earnestly that it wouldn't rain before dinner.
As time went on, the youngest son Nigel made it a home for himself and
his family; then in 1966 he wisely made Sissinghurst over to the
National Trust. Even now Sissinghurst is well known as part of famous
gardens tours.
DREAM CASTLE"No. II
Of the here assembled castles, possibly that chosen by Kenneth Clark
came closest to what most people believe a castle should look like - a
rambling stone fortress with courtyard, arched entrance and towers.
Kenneth Clark was knighted in 1939, and made a life peer in 1969. As an
art adviser to King George VI, and on his appointment as director of the
National Gallery at the young age of 31, his reputation grew. His wide
knowledge of art, and contagious enthusiasm, was displayed to advantage
when he shared them with the public in the acclaimed television series
"Civilisation".
Kenneth Clark bought Saltwood Castle near Hythe in Kent in 1953, because
he thought that by leaving the fast-moving life of London behind, his
marriage to Jane would be given a fresh start; he would have time to
write; and scenic places for walking.
Saltwood is the ruins of an early Norman castle damaged by an earthquake
in the 16th century. It is said the four knights who murdered Thomas
Becket stayed at the castle on the night before their crime.
In a photograph of Saltwood with The Clarks dwarfed in front of a huge
tower, one can see the stone battlements, low and sprawling. A moat was
part of Clark's view from his study. Also visible was the valley leading
to the English Channel.
A library, which was an important feature to both Kenneth and Jane, was
organized in one of the buildings that had once housed the Archbishop's
Hall of Audience.
Once the Clarks were established in Saltwood, visitors arrived in droves
on the weekends, entailing unexpected strain on their staff, and the
necessary hosting of long and frequent tours of the battlements.
The company of close friends, however, brightened their lives. Laurence
Olivier, Vivien Leigh, Yehudi and Diana Menuhin, and Edith Sitwell came
to visit. Guests discovered that the yellow room was haunted, another
hazard for castle owners. Perhaps to compensate, the Queen Mother, who
had always appreciated Kenneth Clark, performed the customary ceremony
of tree-planting when she came.
In spite of the battlements, 'Salters', as Clark nicknamed his castle,
had great charms, especially in the lovely shades of springtime. Early
winter had its moments of beauty too, and under cover of snow 'Salters'
became a fairytale castle.
By the 1970's Clark was beginning to plan for his old age, with Saltwood
as his focal point. His solution was to give the Castle to his elder son
Colin.
Meanwhile, plans were drawn up by John King for a house to be built on
the grounds. The house was designed with three wings, branching off from
a connecting central hall. From it there would be a fine view of the
castle itself.
Although it sounds odd to have a white frame one-storey home on the
castle property, the 'Motel' as it was first named in dislike, became
"The Garden House" when totally accepted. In it Kenneth and Jane placed
their favourite furnishings and choice collection of paintings from the
castle. The official changeover was celebrated on his 68th birthday.
Even the successful castle dreamer found it more convenient to sneak
away to a home with more modern amenities, leaving problems to their
offspring.
DREAM CASTLE NO. III
To be driving along the roads of Tuscany, only to have your car break
down at the gates of a romantic-looking castle is not an every day
occurrence. (I've always suspected a real estate agent slipped some
money to the driver.) It was delight at first glance for Sir George
Sitwell in 1909. He purchased Castello di Montegufoni immediately for
the modest sum of £4,000. In the Italian castle price range of those
days, it might have been called "a nice starter castle".
In translation, an advertisement for the Castle might have run as
follows:
For the discriminating buyer: Castelo di Montegufoni is offered for
sale. It is the former Villa of the distinguished 13th century
Acciaiuoli family. Here is an exceptional opportunity for elegant living
in a romantic setting, where your personal taste in decor may be
expressed in the one hundred rooms, and huge hall. Other magnificent
features include five courtyards, three terraces, chapel, and bell
tower. Surrounded by vineyards and orchards, this estate must be viewed
to be appreciated.
Incidently, this fictional promotion fails to mention that the castle
was inhabited by 297 squatters, and had no drains, electric lights, or
central heating.
However, this was no bleak, grey castle of the North, but a Southern
style one, where the rays of the warm setting sun bathed the stucco
walls in a golden glow.
The buyer, Sir George Sitwell, was the eccentric father of the literary
artists Osbert, Edith and Sacheverall. Sir George was quite willing to
devote most of his life and much of his fortune to make his dream remain
a dream. He lived in a medieval dream world of his own, planning and
designing endless improvements.
According to Osbert, the reason for his father's withdrawal from reality
may have been due to his failure to communicate with others. This lack
was evident when some of the displaced squatters came by with sullen
looks to watch the renovations taking place at Montegufoni. Sir George
interpreted their presence as showing approval.
In his favour, it must be admitted that the clearing of the inhabitants
from the Castle was conducted gradually over several years. In the end
about forty peasants remained living in a corner of the property to
carry on the work connected with the drying of fruit, vineyards, and
other estate work.
In 1923 Sir George and Lady Ida decided to make Montegufoni their
permanent home, rather than Renishaw in England. By this time,
unsuitable additions of other buildings had been cleared away from the
Castle, so that the rooms opened up to lovely vistas. The Cardinal's
Court garden was said to be especially attractive with its giant deep
pink oleander.
Osbert, Edith and Sacheverall, though busy with their independent
careers, took pleasure in the place, and provided their own expertise,
particularly in the choosing of works of art.
In his restless manner, their father roamed from room to room, terrace
to courtyard, cellar to tower, pondering and scheming for what would be
another fifteen years of development. Guests were welcomed and shown
about the Castle and grounds with pride.
Unfortunately World War II interrupted this idyllic period.
Osbert, who could see the prospect of war between Italy and Britain
looming, warned his father to leave. Sir George took no heed, but
continued on as usual. As retainers and other help drifted away, he
still made plans for the grotto to be restored.
Meanwhile, foreigners crowded the Italian trains in 1940, as they fled
their adopted country. Now Sir George at 80 years of age, widowed and in
poor health, wandered about the labyrinth of rooms. Alone he peered over
the countryside from his tower, little knowing that the remaining three
years of his life would be spent in isolation in Switzerland. Had it
been enough for a life? Perhaps for him, it was.
Well, this is not a history of the Sitwell family, but that of a dream
castle, which now took on an entirely different phase. Monte-gufoni was
confiscated by the Italian Government to house priceless works of art
from the important Uffizi and Pitti Galleries, and other parts of
Tuscany.
Even with its remote location, the Castelo was not spared entirely, for
refugees took shelter there during the War, in the security of the
cellars and dungeons. So, below were the people, and upstairs were the
paintings worth $320 million or more, both at risk.
Then the Germans arrived and turfed out the refugees. The troops lived
upstairs, and finding the collection of pictures in their way, were
prone to dispense with them. Guido Masti, the strong-willed person
entrusted with the care of these priceless treasures, somehow persuaded
the Germans that these masterpieces belonged not to the Italians, but to
the world at large.
Eventually Montegufoni came through its ordeal, and Osbert was able to
enjoy considerable time there, only using a small portion of the
available space. Prince Margaret and Lord Snowden paid a brief visit
shortly before he died. Sir Osbert ended his days at the Castelo,
helpless with palsy in a wheelchair, frightened of the rats.
Montegufoni was willed to his nephew Reresby, but evidently not the
money necessary for its upkeep, so that the Castelo had to be sold to a
wealthy local businessman. Thus, Montegufoni became someone else's
dream.
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The experiences of these three castle dreamers may sway the vote for
more manageable fantasies. Anyone for an abandoned lighthouse?
by NORMA C. PLUMMER Hamilton Canada