Woolly says – The day hadn’t started well with a twenty minute search to find the car keys; I really need to get a new human! Having eventually found them in the pocket of her grey jacket which was in camouflage on top of a pile of grey bedding, we could finally get under way.
The sun had also gone into hiding and as we drove towards the outskirts of Gloucester, I kept my paws crossed that the small, odd drop of rain wouldn’t get any heavier. Jo had given me a broad brief for the day, not to far away and somewhere for the mutt to have a decent walk, it proved to be an easy assignment.
Westbury Court Garden is a Dutch water garden in Westbury-on-Severn, Gloucestershire, initially laid out by the owner of Westbury Court, Maynard Colchester I, between 1696 and 1705. Its, a rare find having survived the 18th century and the new era of naturalistic gardening with vast landscapes which became popularised by Capability Brown. It has been owned and managed by the National Trust since 1967. Having parked up and paid for our tickets Alfie the Dog was keen to investigate and led us straight through the gate to the first of its canals, it was beautiful, all 137 meters (449ft) of it.
We walked along the pathway with its topiary yew and holly bushes shaped as pyramids or balls and the lovely purple flowers that lined the route.
Looking back, we could see the pavilion which we would look into later.
A small pond with a fountain led us onto another path lined with a double row of yew trees heading in the direction of the summer house. The summer house had been built in 1702 and would have been a shady place to sit on a hot summer’s day.
Overlooking the T shaped canal, we paused for a moment to let barking boy check out the fish in the water who bobbed up and down blowing him kisses.
In amongst the lilies and irises on the canals water stood a statue of Neptune added to the gardens in the mid 17th century.
Next to the summer house was a small walled garden with wonderful colours blooming everywhere from the purple iris to the bright red poppy it was a lovely place to be.
We found ourselves heading through the old orchard where picnic benches sat under shady branches, due to the key incident a picnic had gone right out of the window, so I hoped that the human had a plan for my lunch!
The Parterres area of the gardens was a hive of activity with volunteers hoeing away at the neat beds all with their own topiarised bushes.
I was interested to see that they were using a lot of natural borders to designate pathways which is something that we use on the glamping site, which meant finding small areas that felt very secluded, a tree trunk housed a noughts and crosses game and my small companion settled down for a game as Alfie the Dog and I continued towards the gardens record holder.
Woolly says – Having beaten myself twice I gave up on the game and raced over to admire the fine specimen known as the holm oak, reputedly the oldest tree to be found in the country. Dated at around 400 years old it was in the Guinness Book of Records and given its mighty age it’s unlikely that anyone would be chopping it down to count the rings inside to check.
Standing next to it was a flowering tulip tree known to be the tallest of its kind and believed to be over 150 years old. I’d never thought of tulips growing on trees let alone seen them, I did know that tulips came from Turkey which was one of the first facts I learnt after moving there.
Turning our backs on the trees we walked through the very precisely planted vegetable garden with its kale, asparagus, rhubarb and so much more they looked as though they could be in for a lot of food later in the year.
I paused to look at the old stone garden roller which had been rescued from the churchyard next door and rehomed into the gardens before my interested was grabbed by some strange looking pots. The forcing pots as they are known, are put over the top of small plants to bring them on I wondered how common this was in this day and age.
We had arrived at the pavilion which was based on a two-storey Dutch style red-brick pavilion giving views across the gardens and the countryside behind. Inside was a riot of very new looking panelling and windows to grubby to get a picture through. Information books lay on a large table and the walls had some of the engravings that Johannes Kip had done in 1712 of the house and gardens, which made it look spectacular.
As we ambled back towards the car Jo, and I pondered on the large steeple of the church next door and seeing a small gate into the churchyard we headed through. Natural was taken to a whole new level over the wall with pathways to get round but gravestones disappearing into the tall grasses.
The parish church of St Mary, St Peter & St Paul was enormous, the length of two cricket pitches, which suggests the importance it once had in the area. As we rounded the one end, I had fully expected to see the steeple attached and was rather surprised to find it a few yards away from the main building.
The stone tower contains a peal of six bells, which is probably the only surviving part of an earlier church. Cromwell’s soldiers stabled their horses here at one point during the Civil War. Almost as old as the tower is the tall wooden spire on top. It was lovely but closed, I tried to peep through the keyhole but couldn’t see anything but a cobweb.
We headed into the church itself, it smelt like a proper church with that slightly musty but somehow earthy scent, the 300 year old pews are becoming an ever rarer sight, and these had been well looked after.
The wall memorials and stained glass windows seemed quite small in the vast space. According to the information board the vicar opened the church doors during the summer months to serve tea and cakes to all of the visitors, sadly it appeared that summer wasn’t actually here as there were no signs of life and with my tummy rumbling it seemed like a good time to find something for a late lunch.