Twenty-odd years ago my wife did her Master’s Degree at Southampton University and our accommodation for that year was far lovelier than we could have dreamed of. We arrived in Southampton and went straight to the Domestic Bursar’s office to ask for assistance with accommodation. She was a bit dismayed as almost everything she had was full, especially for a married couple. After a while she told us there was something but it was a bit out of town so not very convenient. It had been rented to an Indian man for a while and, in her words, he had painted it in ‘garish colours’. Most people didn’t like it. We had little choice so we said we would be happy to take it. She gave us more information and we set out to find it.
A bus took us to a stop next to a wood. Nearby was a driveway and we walked along it, through the wood, until we saw them – two beautiful little thatched cottages on either side of the drive, guarding the entrance to a manor estate. Unlocking the door we entered the tiny living room which was painted in pastels which would have been popular in the sixties, by no means garish. I suppose the Bursar was a white and eggshell person. The ground floor consisted of a very small living room and smaller kitchen and a staircase hugged the wall to spiral up to a bedroom just big enough to hold a double bed and a tiny toilet and bathroom which nonetheless contrived to fit a nice deep bath. I will always remember sitting, er… relaxing there one day and watching a squirrel chase a rabbit away from its favourite tree. The cottages were round and their thatched roofs made them look like oversized mushrooms used by fairies as houses.
The manor is Chilworth manor and neighbours Broadlands, the former Lord Louis Mountbatten’s family home. Chilworth was never a grand estate but I will never be rich enough to own such a place. We loved walking around its formal gardens and enjoyed the surrounding woods just as much.
In Winter there were days when it was all covered in snow producing that white-clad beauty that I have missed so much in my life in the tropical state of Queensland, Australia. Then Spring came and the lawns were covered in crocuses and daffodils, the rockeries were filled with primroses and the woods filled with bluebells. The last two brought back beautiful memories of my Scottish childhood. Rhododendron and azalea bushes painted the front lawn of the Manor.
The gardener was nice fellow, a country man who could talk about the many interesting people who had been tenants of these and other cottages since the University bought the estate. We talked about colonialism and he said in his burring Hampshire accent that he always pointed out to the Indians, Pakistanis and others that it was not his ancestors that were to blame for it, it was the people who lived ‘There’; and he pointed to the manor house. I agree. It was the moneyed class which exploited the poor and sent them to their deaths in countries they did not belong in, killing people they did not know or hate.
There is a small lake and a dilapidated shelter for a boat, nothing so grand as a boathouse on this small Manor. I loved the Deer Circle most. It is a closely planted circle of pine trees with a small gap and when there were deer on the property they would come into the circle in Winter to be fed. The circle was lent an air of mystery by several caryatids lying on their backs gazing skywards. Later I was inspired by this to write my only ghost story. You can find it here……
The cottages are called the Beehive Cottages. Our neighbour in No 1 Beehive Cottage was a chemistry professor and became a good friend. He generously lent us his car at times and we had some wonderful conversations. I’ve lost touch with him so if any readers can work out who he was and have knowledge of what became of him I would love to know. He was a highly intelligent and fit and energetic man older than I am now. I look now like he was then but don’t have his fitness. I miss you whenever I remember you Hieronymus. We enjoyed playing with fanciful names, didn’t we? I don’t know why we were so blessed to have such a wonderful place to stay and such excellent company. Life is unexpectedly wonderful and there is always a beautiful surprise waiting around the next turning in the woods.