Look Back, But Don't Stare

Hi-viz and hard hats herald the arrival of experts who will advise

Its really hard to write a blog post in a situation like this, just a matter of weeks after the fire that destroyed Betley Court. I started the blog as a way of putting the progress on the garden project, which is funded by the National Lottery Heritage Fund, into the public domain. That way, lottery players can see where lottery money goes. We also thought that a blog would be a good place to share some of the oral histories we had started to collect from people, again so that their stories were in the public domain. And it’s been lovely to share bits and pieces that I’ve picked up from research, like the time I found out about the history of the eel trap in the dam. I could never have imagined I’d be writing about the biggest disaster in Betley Court’s 300-year-old life, never mind have witnessed it!

Ozzie wing of the family meeting with the loss adjuster

Investigative work continues, and we’ve amassed an impressive collection of hard hats and hi-viz jackets to protect family and site workers as they survey the site. The ‘cavalry’ arrived in the form of the Australian and Scottish wings of the family this week. Despite their shock at seeing the shell of the building for themselves, they have brought a wealth of ideas, and new energy to the Court.

Complete devastation, the former hall and the office

Into the cellar

Amongst the first visitors were the loss adjusters, armed with laser measures and clipboards. Things they needed to know are things you don’t notice usually. Background details like wall finishes, ceiling roses. Was there dado rail in that room, was the ceiling plasterboard or plaster and lath? When the building was restored (and this is going back 40 years!) were the floorboards reclaimed oak or pine? Did any photos that could provide details survive the fire. One revelation I had not heard before was that the replacement drawing room floorboards were made from reclaimed wood from a gymnasium! But then, the Professor always had an eye for clever use of reclaimed materials. He was upcycling and repurposing long before they became fashionable buzzwords.

The gardens are making a special effort to look lovely. Leaves are just beginning to turn to their autumn colours. The fish pond has refilled after the work was done on the dam, and when the weather’s still, it makes a perfect mirror, reflecting the palm-like Tree of Heaven (Ailanthus altissima) quite beautifully.

At least the garden looks lovely

Elsewhere in the gardens, the formal borders, although unfortunately now framed by the burnt out-shell of Betley Court, are looking pretty, never-the-less. They remind me of C. Eliot Hodgkin’s wartime paintings of bombsites in London, where he captured flowers spontaneously sprung up amongst the rubble. That strange juxtaposition of the beauty of flowers and rubble.

Add C. Eliot Hodgkin's 'The Haberdashers' Hall, 8th May 1945. Fireweed springs up from the rubble.

I’ve been over to weed the flowerbeds. Quite a sorry, sad thing to do now the house is empty of people. Sorrel (Rumex acetosa) is getting the better of me at the moment. Its an interesting plant, a great colonizer of bare earth, hence its invasiveness in the flower border. Its also an edible, and Culpepper recommended it for quenching thirst. Romans used it as a soothing aid for a sore stomach.

Sorrel

Dahlias and gladioli

Other tasks have been to deadhead the dahlias and marguerites. That way there’ll be flowers until the first frosts, which will keep the bees happy. And one comfort is that if I work with my back to the house, all I can see is the gardens and a view that has changed very little for hundreds of years. Just as it was before the fire. Perhaps, for the time being, the best thing to do is look back, but don’t stare. Eyes forward and on the task ahead. Time will sort everything out, eventually, and Betley Court will rise again.