Meredith Taylor, in LewTrenchard, Devon:

We then went on to the Church of St. Peter in Lew Trenchard just next door, which is small and lovely.

W.S. Baring-Gould, grandson of SBG, compiled the first annotation of the complete Holmes that I ever owned.  On his account I took a picture of the memorial plaque to another William B-G.  In the old and peaceful churchyard the Baring-Gould couple is buried, with two daughters nearby and a grave marker or possibly a memorial stone commemorating a third.

The staff ladies had not known Margaret (aka Daisy) B-G painted the pictures in the Virtues “sitting room.”  Another considerate soul, the warden in the church,  told me Daisy painted the rood screen pictures.  Not a one of these ladies knew about the MOOR and they were very interested;  the church warden wrote it down carefully.

At this point I would have accounted my May trip as a resounding success if everything else had gone pear-shaped, as one niece has taught me to say.  We went on our way with repeated thanks for our guides.  Amusingly enough, we females collectively got so excited that I headed out of the hotel without paying for tea and had to go back.

If I had it all to do over again, here’s what I’d do:  per my fellow investigators, there is a resident historian, and I’d make an appointment with him.  I’d bring flowers for the graves.  I would take more pictures (and more slowly and evenly).  My true preference would be to stay as a party of four or more hard-core Russellians.  My word, what a good time we would have.

 

In our Dartmoor voyage we also hit Postbridge and Widdecombe.  As our final flourish we made it to the Hound Tor.  I was impressed with myself that I climbed up the entire Hound Tor except the very top rocky bit.  By request, Dave did his impression of The Man on the Tor.  The views were spectacular and so was the wind.

 

 

 

 

 

Fortunately after all this I had a day or so to rest up.  So much for the Hounds, on to London for the Lords!

Meredith Taylor continues her description of an investigative trip to Dartmoor, in the footsteps of Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes.

Lew Trenchard

While talking to the staff ladies, a good question was answered: how can a hotel chain afford to have all these family portraits and beautiful furniture?  Donna gave me the interesting solution: Dr. Merriol Baring-Gould Almond still owns the house and contents and it is on long-term lease to the hotel chain.  She comes over at intervals from the States to see the place.  Apparently many of the portraits are copies as SBG liked the originals.  Some line the staircase.

 

 

 

 

Specific portraits here show SBG as a child with his mother, a young man (with Donna the staff member) and a portrait of Grace, his wife.

At this point Donna noticed perhaps she needed to do a little work.  I found the ballroom (a general photo and also detail pictured)

 

 

 

 

and then asked Laure  “where is the quarry?”  She said, with French accent,  “Iz it by the lake, perhaps?”  I said “I think it is the lake.”   (Picture shows Dave and Laure and a bit of garden.)  We had to be escorted past a “keep out” sign even to be able to see it.   Yes, there’s a good forty foot drop from the level of the garden to the water’s surface.  You could perhaps slide down that piece of land to the bank next to the water if you were a foolish resident.  It looked green and menacing, no doubt more appealing on a hot day.  The idea of letting your children play there!

 

 

 

 

 

Tomorrow: the church of Lew Trenchard…

The intrepid Meredith Taylor follows the footsteps of Russell and Holmes in Dartmoor…

Dartmoor,  MOOR and Lew Trenchard

When we arrived a party of four was sitting right next to the fireplace in the front room.  (No fire needed on a Thursday in May.)  I was disappointed as this would slow down my quest for fireplace surround with hounds chasing the fox.  In synchrony with my recent life with the slightly deaf, the oldest lady in the party kept repeating “I can’t hear you.”   Brother Dave opined later that they were an advance party scouting for a future event.  I believe we were the only other guests in the entire place, with two staff visible in front of house and chef or assistants in the kitchen, whom we never saw.

Lewtrenchard now offers gourmet meals in the Purple Carrot restaurant.  I obeyed one of the first rules about good cooks: don’t mess with the chef.   I went nowhere near the kitchen.

We sat down for tea in that front room, termed the “hall” in MOOR.

I extend apologies to my reading public, as I made a substantial error and did not capture a shot of the hall, and neither, alas, did Dave.  Therefore I’ll give you a longer description than other rooms.  Happily for Lewtrenchard and present guests, the front room has been totally reupholstered and reconfigured from the 2009 era or in fact any photo on line.

It is now redone with earth-tones and dark red and red-brown on the furniture.  Two wing chairs were next to the fireplace and faced a round low wooden table, faced on the other side by a large sofa.  Another sofa sat back to back with that, facing a large ottoman/coffee table (designer fashion of present day) in olive green tufted leather and another spacious couch in dark red-brown was positioned on the other side.  All of these couches had tapestry/kilim-style cushions sufficient to make the height-challenged (me) comfortable.   The front room has beautiful stained-glass windows with the Baring-Gould mottoes.

Tea was the classic selection on a tiered plate stand of tea sandwiches, scones, Devon clotted cream (a substance part way between cream, butter and heaven), strawberry jam, and small pieces of cake.  The scones were the best I ate on the entire trip.   The party of four departed and I realized that if I didn’t say anything we’d be there and gone and not see the rest of the house.  However, if I put my mind to it and am enthusiastic, I can talk people into things.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the hall I took a picture of the carved wooden fireplace surround, where the fox unquestionably is heading for a pineapple.

I found the nice staff ladies and started talking about Rev. Sabine Baring-Gould (SBG).  Donna and Laure (pronounced “lore” and how great a coincidence is that!) were extremely gracious and, I believe, frankly delighted that someone had heard of him, the family and the house.  Donna escorted me into the room of Virtues which is termed the sitting room in MOOR and then a room which I would call the library but probably was termed SBG’s study in the book.  These now are both dining rooms, one being empty of furniture at our visit.   There is a close up here of the Virtue “Investigatio” with her dress indeed adorned by objects which appear to be ants.  Her designated Virtue name is over her head and barely visible.

 

 

 

 

 

The house has had changes since 2009.  Upstairs I could easily find the generously endowed African lady carved as a door surround near one of the rooms.  I’d call the upstairs area a very large upper landing; Russell describes it as the gallery.

 

 

 

 

The farthest room on the right has Queen Henrietta Maria’s bed, one of the famous features of the house (pictured) and is a sumptuous room.  However, this bed would not do if you were a gent of six foot four, as the Queen of Charles I evidently was petite.

 

 

 

 

 

The gallery holds SBG’s long dining table referred to as a refectory table.  SBG’s standing desk as described in MOOR is also there and the photo shows me beside it (thrilled, may I say).  After all, both SBG and Holmes leaned on this desk!

More tomorrow…

Friend of Russell Meredith continues her May trip to England…

Dartmoor and Lew Trenchard, Part 2

On that first evening, we kept going on one of the major roads and stopped at Two Bridges.  MOOR says Russell and Holmes stopped at “an inn” with a Saracen’s Head in Two Bridges.  There was no Saracen’s Head and only one inn that we found.  It’s actually a hotel; it was delightful and I’d like to stay in it sometime.  It has a good-sized front room, dark wood,  and capacious leather couches with big fat pillows.  In honor of Russell playing the penny whistle and drinking waaay too much Devonshire zyder, I had some cider and Dave took a snap.  Note book in lap, the mass market paperback of MOOR in the era of Russell-in-dressing gown on the cover.

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning I extended my ablutions and Dave used the time to run into Tavistock and track down an Ordnance Survey map of the area; OL 28.  It’s 2.5 inches to one mile.  This was solid gold.   We tried to figure out a not-too-long walk off the road and into Russell-land.  My sometimes unreliable knees had been performing well but I didn’t want to push it.  We found a walk to Wistman’s Wood, which is described as a “strange bent and twisted forest;”  it actually was on the map.   Unfortunately, in thirty minutes of walking we were only half way along; if you go to twelve o’clock on the photo and drop straight down, the trees are Wistman’s Wood.  Dave also introduced me to the idea of “SW”s, Serious Walkers, folks with knapsacks, walking sticks, etc.   About six SWs passed us.  Rapidly.

 

 

 

 

 

I had rung Lew Trenchard House from the States to book tea and was impressed with how friendly and accommodating they were.  Lew Trenchard House is gone, Lewtrenchard Manor House Hotel reigns in its stead.  If you go to a search engine you will find a website for the place as well as various related items.  Check out the article in the Telegraph, which mentions the superb service and that parts of the place need renovation.

I was therefore expecting a situation I’ve seen in some National Trust properties:  interesting house, dark and spacious interior smelling slightly of mold, important furniture not in good shape.

Well, throw those ideas right out of your head.  The interiors we visited had been kept in impeccable condition.  The outside is spectacular, including expansive and beautiful grounds which in Russell’s day were overgrown with weeds.  I’d never quite understood how a gooseherd could be a fountain.  See photo; it’s a statue of a chap holding geese under each arm and they are spitting out the water.  Sounds unsanitary and looks quite lovely.  The exterior of the place looks huge but the inside is almost cozy, at least the bits I saw.

In June 2009 Alice Wright and Merrily Taylor (no relation) generated a substantial Blog on Mutterings and listed items in the Gallery of the VBC with first rate pictures of Lew Trenchard, so I also refer you to those.  (Was I tipsy while taking photos?  One wonders.)  In the covered front porch Alice and Merrily found a collection of (damp?) umbrellas.  In turn, we saw about eight pair of brand new Wellingtons, neatly lined up. (sorry, no picture)  Russell would have been so pleased not to have to scrub off the mildew.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More tomorrow...