This volume recounts an odyssey through country houses in the years following World War II. Most had been requisitioned by the armed forces and, when de-requisitioned, were left to stand empty awaiting their owners' return. It was then that John Harris first discovered country houses.
A fabulous book for anyone interested in the old houses and estates in Great Britain and what happened to them as the economic times and tax structures changed. A good companion book is Felling the Ancient Oaks: how England lost its great country estates by John Martin Robinson
Renowned architectural historian John Harris recalls his early experiences of discovering the disappearing country houses of England in this quirky and entertaining memoir. His start in the field was far from what might be expected; largely brought up by his Uncle Sid, a keen angler, he found that many of Sid’s favourite fishing spots were within the grounds of deserted or decaying grand houses and frequently entertained himself by trespassing and occasionally breaking and entering the properties, a pastime that developed into an obsession by his young adulthood. This was in the decade or so following the end of the Second World War, when country houses and their rich architectural and artistic heritage were literally going to rack and ruin or being demolished and their contents sold and dispersed; by 1955 this was at the rate of one demolition every two and a half days. Harris, who would go on to Co-curate the famous ‘Destruction of the English Country House’ exhibition at the V&A in 1974, tells a scarcely believable tale of vandalism (particularly in the many houses that had been commandeered by the War Office), neglect and decay. He is a born raconteur and his narrative is peppered with eccentric characters, semi-criminal escapades, mind-boggling juxtapositions (ornate ballrooms used to store sacks of turnips, a flock of sheep penned up in a particularly grand country house, among many others) and occasional spookiness. The book is liberally scattered with the author’s original photos which starkly illustrate the levels of decay and collapse described in his text.
I do like this book and over the years since it was published I have read it a good many times. It may not be for everyone, but it has always had a place on my book shelves.
I am privileged to work in a country house that was lucky enough not to end up as a casualty of destruction, but saying that I can understand why so many were lost. The sheer enormity of keeping a house going, staff, repairs, taxes, etc. is shocking and not for the feint hearted.
John Harris looks back to an era when the houses were still standing, not always in the best of health and this research from that time helps him in his future career. His anecdotes are quite often amusing and at other times quite upsetting.
What happened to a lot of the English country houses was quite unbelievable, but in this memoir of sorts some of them come to life, written by someone who saw them first hand.
I would recommend this book to anyone who has an interest in the country house.
Such a wonderful book. A memoir of snooping around English country houses before most of them were tragically demolished. Such a terrible architectural waste. Sometimes Harris is a bit too flowery for my taste, but the stories he had to tell (the desiccated Alsatian in a bath, the 'Museum' full of stuffed animal heads, the wallpaper with all the peacock's eyes cut out) made me forgive Harris his purple prose.
A very interesting and unique book. I had no idea so many great houses were lost, especially post-war and it is fascinating hearing the history behind these losses. The book is amusing with the various mishaps and tales of the visits. There is a quite a bit of architectural language for a layman like myself but the googling of the words increased my knowledge. Definitely worth a read.
In this book, the author describes great country houses in the throes of death (talk about purple prose!) I use it as a resource to create authentic Regency-era settings in my fiction writing.
The destruction of Lincolnshire's Burwell Park, condemned to die in a county of 'philistine farmers,' turned the author 'black with rage.' Me, too.
Should be read alongside The Sack of Bath for more on a similar topic. Describes the scale of country houses lost in the post war years - I had no idea so many were lost because they were requisitioned in the war and then left in such a state, it was too expensive to fix them. Good for architectural history too.