Taking tea at Sudeley Castle

Sudeley, in the heart of the Cotswolds, is England’s ‘most romantic’ castle. What’s more, there are special experiences available for visitors who’d like a glimpse of the private side of life in this cultural gem. Katie Jarvis enjoys (immensely) a tour, and a cream tea with Lady Ashcombe.

I’m at North Lodge, Sudeley Castle: a gorgeously golden-stoned gatehouse, its mini towers crenellated, diamond-patterned windows glinting in the sun…  Yes, indeed - I’m at the entrance marked ‘private’ (*looks smug*). My one complaint, as I press for the electric gates to swing open, is that I don’t have crowds of open-mouthed bystanders enviously watching. (My preferred option, obviously.)

But maybe, I console my-would-be-ritzy-self, I’m arriving through portals royalty once used. (That would do it.) Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, Katherine Parr (more on this queen later), Lady Jane Grey (ditto), Elizabeth I: all, and more, have been welcomed through one of Sudeley’s gates or other.

‘Ah,’ says delightful Lady Ashcombe, sitting in the outer courtyard, waiting for me. ‘Not through the North Lodge – because that’s Victorian.’

Mary Powys, one of the castle’s managers (a brilliant one; though that doesn’t begin to convey her friendliness and welcome) tries to console me. ‘Even though it’s Victorian, royalty has entered under that archway – certainly more modern royalty… When King Charles and Queen Camilla visited, they would have come up this way.’

That’s all I wanted to know, I say, appeased. 

‘I remember when Princess Margaret came,’ Lady Ashcombe says. ‘We were all standing here and had a little bit of a red carpet. And I said, ‘Ma’am, would you like to look around the house?’ She said, ‘No, I’d rather have a gin and tonic’.’

I mean, wouldn’t we all…

I’m here for a private tour, followed by cream tea with Lady Ashcombe. And – from the second I enter – this experience feels gloriously special. Firstly, there’s the thoroughly distinguished greeting I receive as I walk in: Prince Rudolph and the Honourable Tulah Cubitt are beside themselves with joy to see me.

‘They do bark, but it’s a friendly bark,’ Lady Ashcombe quite rightly says.

And, then, it’s this most convivial, informal of chats, it’s fascination and warmth. Indeed, the only harsh sound, as we sit and drink in the courtyard’s beauty, is from a preening peacock strutting somewhere far off in the grounds.

 

Guided by the ghosts of the past

My afternoon begins in earnest with my own private tour of Sudeley, led by Jane - genuinely one of the best guides I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering. She brings the past alive in a way that, were you to tell me she’d just stepped out of a time-machine, I’d merely ask what roast swan tasted like.

This outer courtyard, our starting-point, is beautiful beyond words: a sweeping vista over the gracefulness of the castle (dubbed England’s most romantic), right down to the Civil War ruins. Once, this outer courtyard would have housed servant quarters in wooden buildings, and a guards’ room (more like bouncers for unwanted callers than medieval archers; this was not a warzone). But the second Lord Chandos – owner in the 16th century – flicked through his Yellow Pages and called in the builders. He had justifiably high hopes that his Queen, Elizabeth I, might pop by; and he wanted his home to look its absolute best. Medusa-like, he turned what he saw to stone. Not a cheap or quick task, but one with today’s breath-taking results…

No wonder royal visits – with their huge entourages – could bankrupt a man. (Be grateful for those who merely ask for a stonking G&T, I say.)

 

Sudeley’s Architectural Marvels

‘We must look at the drainpipes,’ interjects Mary, who’s coming along for the ride.

Hang on a mo! We’ve just been discussing the moment Elizabeth I rode majestically through the gate. Is this not lowering the tone somewhat?

‘Absolutely not,’ Mary insists. And she’s spot on. ‘Look,’ she says, pointing to the cast-iron (or so they look to me) pipes that funnel water from up high, down into soakaways. The old ones are inscribed with the date 1887, and the initials of William and John Dent, the castle’s Victorian guardian-owners: elegant and detailed bits of hardware, even in their pragmatism. ‘But the pipes are getting really rumpled and need replacing,’ Mary points out. ‘The great thing about Sudeley needing repairs is that it keeps old skills alive. I’ve been watching craftspeople working away on the replacements, cutting them by hand… This new one has got a lovely detail: a liony-dragon on it.’

Sudeley Castle: where even the gutters are charming.

Jane has been guiding here, part time, for 12 years, after a career in computing. ‘It’s very good for the grey cells, and I just loved the idea of working in an environment like this.’

What I love is the way she talks about it: every fact a human story that conjures to life one of the castle’s ghostly personalities of the past. 

‘I’m currently into Ralph Boteler who built it in the first place,’ Jane says. A 15th-century Lord High Treasurer of England, he swept away a 12th-century fortified manor house to create his faux castle – out of creamy, local oolitic limestone – here in the heart of the Cotswolds.

‘He was a very naughty boy was Ralph. In those days, you needed a licence to crenellate your property – which was literally done to show off your wealth. He was never made to pull it down, even though he didn’t apply for that licence. Somehow or other, he was pardoned in 1458.

‘What’s more, he built a crenellated property on very similar lines at Ricksmansworth in Hertfordshire without a licence, and was pardoned for that on the same day.’

Ah – a repeat crenellator.

Nevertheless, kudos to Ralph. He did a fabulous job.

But, then, so have many owners over the centuries. A back door (but picture a back door of fairy-tale loveliness) takes us past Emma’s tower: built by Victorian Emma Dent (though this addition doesn’t look a whisker out of place) to house her collection of museum pieces. ‘Most of us would simply have bought an extra cupboard,’ Jane points out.

Not only was it a storage tower; it was a glorious look-out onto the grounds she loved.

 

Emma’s legacy: Gardens and guile

Emma was instrumental in putting in the yew tree alleys. She tells us, in 1858, she thinks yew tree alleys would be great – but she’s had a price and it’s £170 to get them. John Coucher Dent, her husband, is never going to agree to this. So she doesn’t know what to do.’

(A problem with which I’m not unfamiliar, though mainly around new shoes.)

Emma, however, had all the answers.

‘We get to 1860,’ Jane continues, ‘and her bill for the garden is £200. She’s got all the yew trees sorted; she’s had 1,300 yards of box hedge bought; she’s had 300 trees put in – and all for just £200.’

Bargain! Either she ditched the garden designers and went straight to Victorian B&Q. Or she beat the pros down in price.

‘Clearly, one way or the other, she was a canny lady.’

Jane, quite justifiably, is going to be fuming with me for the way I’ll have to précis her tour. (All I can say is: go on it! Book a private event. Honestly, it’s fab.) I can tell you that we ‘meet’ Thomas Seymour, husband of Henry VIII’s widow Queen Katherine Parr, who owned Sudeley back in the 16th century. (Uniquely for a queen, Katherine is buried in the castle’s own chapel). Seymour is one of history’s baddies – officially accused of ‘inappropriateness’ with Katherine’s 14-year-old stepdaughter, the future Queen Elizabeth. And eventually executed for treason (of a different kind) at Tower Hill in 1549.

‘I would like to have met Thomas because I think he gets a bad press. I don’t think he deserves it, poor guy.’ A political stitch-up?

‘He has 33 misdemeanours and treason charges against him and he’s not allowed to stand up and answer them,’ Jane says. ‘Well, why not? Why couldn’t he?’ she asks, outraged (and only half a millennium-ish too late).

In the Major’s Study (‘man cave’, as Jane prefers) – dark with Victorian panelling; yet lit by a beautiful mullioned window – is a portrait of Katherine’s brother, William, Marquess of Northampton. He lost the castle via the rooky error of supporting the wrong queen, Lady Jane Grey. Her embarrassingly short reign lasted from July 10-19, 1553 (roughly the length of a typical English summer) until her execution – aged 16 or 17 – by Mary Tudor.

During our progress, Jane points out Sudeley’s outstanding art collection. One of her favourite pictures is by Charles Cattermole, commissioned by aforementioned Emma Dent to paint her castle from the outer courtyard, where we were standing only a short time before.

It depicts her uncles, William and John (of the drainpipe-fame), off to Gloucester Assizes, to sit in judgement on a trial. ‘Here they are, getting into the carriage,’ Jane says. ‘It was a big event. They’d have had a nice breakfast here; then a boozy lunch in Cheltenham before heading to Gloucester.’

Heaven help the defendants.

‘The story we have, though, is that Emma wasn’t happy when Cattermole finished it. There was something missing - she sent the painting all the way back to Norfolk to have it changed.’

The missing detail was…? ‘A bit of smoke from the chimney… I do think a bit of grey eye-shadow would have done.’

As well as dipping in and out of public areas, we sneak (fascinatingly and officially) into private quarters, such as Mollie’s (Lady Ashcombe’s daughter’s) bedroom, in which super-model Elle Macpherson stayed one evening.

We see Lady Ashcombe’s own day rooms; the late Lord Ashcombe’s billiard room. A glimpse out of the window of a grandchild sitting beside the family swimming pool. I adore it all.

 

Where history meets home

Until we finally end up in the Stone Drawing Room: a magical place where the atoms of history seem to collide. Lady Ashcombe took the panelling down here – always a controversial move with the in-laws – but, in fact, a triumph. The stone underneath is beautiful in its imperfections, each telling its own story. Such as the masons’ marks, which long-ago craftsmen made in the quarries where the stone was dug: effectively a ‘This is mine’ label so the illiterate carter knew where to deliver.

‘The Stone Drawing Room is known as Switzerland because different sides of the castle are occupied by different members of the family,’ Mary says. ‘This is neutral territory: everyone has access to it!’

Indeed, it’s a glorious mix of historic portraits, family photos, and comfy sofas to sink into in lovely yellow and Jacquard. That’s what I love about Sudeley: the combination of grand and cosy.

 

A delightful tea with sorbet and scones

Welcome to Sudeley,’ Lady Ashcombe says, entering, greeting me a second time.

‘We’ll pour tea,’ says Mary.

‘I’m going to treat myself to a sorbet,’ Lady Ashcombe adds, as we eye up the glorious spread (including scones, jam and cream) that Laura has kindly brought in for us.

‘Katie says she’d rather have a whisky and soda,’ Lady Ashcombe tells Mary. ‘And I’ll have a Martini.’

‘Yes, OK – sure, sure, sure,’ Mary says, barely flustered. ‘Wait… Are you pulling my leg?’

What can I tell you…

That we eat off the most beautiful china plates. That the cream tea is utterly delicious. That the conversation flows. That Lady Ashcombe is kind and fascinating and insightful.

We talk of history and gardens and family and friends.

Of how a treasured and trusted employee saw a Victorian lady in the library at the end of last summer – and how it took her nearly a year to tell anyone, just because it seemed like one of those Sudeley things. Of the books swept by unseen hand off the shelf in the (modern, not ancient) visitors’ centre.

And we talk about how much visitors love this kind of special cream-tea experience.

‘Don’t they ever feel nervous, meeting you all?’ I persist.

‘It’s never felt awkward. Ever,’ Mary says. Lady Ashcombe agrees. ‘I just can’t imagine making anybody nervous.’

I couldn’t agree more. Making them feel welcome, relaxed, privileged – yes. Nervous? Not even the Sudeley ghosts can do that.

 

Sudeley Castle and Gardens are at Winchcombe, GL54 5LP; sudeleycastle.co.uk

The castle and gardens are open daily until November 3. Special arrangements for private events, including tours, drinks receptions and afternoon teas with Lady Ashcombe, can be made throughout the whole year by emailing: mary.powys@sudeley.org.uk