Author: Platypus Man

A hidden jewel – Lady Waterford Hall

Posted on by Platypus Man

Viewed from the outside, Lady Waterford Hall in the tiny Northumberland estate village of Ford is unremarkable, pretty enough in its own way but easily forgotten. Take a look inside, however, and everything changes. The Hall’s interior is extraordinary, the walls lined with a series of outstanding watercolour murals featuring Biblical subjects. Perhaps even more surprisingly, this magnificent work of art was once the village schoolhouse.

The murals were painted in life-sized watercolour on paper stretched on wooden frames or panels, which were then washed with distemper to tighten them before being mounted on the walls. Louisa painted them in her studio at Ford Castle. .

The schoolhouse and its 16 massive murals were a decades-long project of Louisa Anne Beresford, Marchioness of Waterford (1818-1891). Her well-connected father was appointed British Ambassador to France in 1816, and Louisa spent much of her childhood in Paris. Given her high society background it was no surprise that she married well in 1842, when she got it together with Henry Beresford, 3rd Marquess of Waterford.

The exterior of Lady Waterford Hall offers no hint of the marvels to be found within

Louisa spent most of her married life at her husband’s family home in County Waterford, southern Ireland. When he died in a riding accident in 1859, he left Ford Castle and its estate in Northumberland to his widow. She was clearly a kind and caring person, and as such she wasted no time in turning the redevelopment of Ford village, and the welfare of her tenants, into her “great experiment”.

Jesus Midst the Doctors (Luke, ch.2, v.46)

Building a schoolhouse for the village children was one of Louisa’s priorities. Work began in 1860, but did not end with bricks and mortar, nor with desks and blackboards. She was an accomplished artist who had received some tuition from the Pre-Raphaelite master Dante Gabriel Rosetti, and she decided to use her talents to paint a series of magnificent murals to help decorate the school’s interior walls.

Left: Moses and Miriam (Hebrews, ch.11, v.23). Right: Samuel and his Parents (1 Samuel, ch.2)

As well as showcasing Louisa’s artistic abilities, the murals’ religious theme enabled her to shine a light on her deeply-held Christian beliefs. Her paintings were intended to act as a teaching aid, encouraging pupils at the school to learn from the moral lessons underpinning the Biblical stories she depicted. In an attempt to make these seem more relevant to their intended audience, she used local estate workers, villagers and children as models for the people featured in her paintings.

Joseph sent to his Brethren (Genesis, ch.1, v 14)

The murals took Louisa just over 20 years to complete, and one can only imagine the pupils’ wonder as they watched their school gradually morphing into a wondrous art gallery. The building continued to operate as the village school until 1957, meaning that several generations were able to benefit from her efforts.

The Child Saviour (Luke, ch.2, v51)

Today known as Lady Waterford Hall, the former schoolhouse is now managed by a charitable trust which aims to preserve the building and the collection housed within it.

Left: The Sacrifice of Cain and Abel (Genesis, ch.4, v.7). Right: Abraham and Isaac (Genesis, ch.22, v.7 & 8)

In addition to its current role as an accredited museum that celebrates Louisa’s artistic legacy and philanthropic endeavours, the building continues to serve the local community by acting as the local village hall. Until we visited a few months ago I had never heard of Louisa Beresford nor encountered any of her work; from what we witnessed and learned during our time there, she clearly deserves to be better known.

Snowmen and snowdogs

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It snowed overnight on Saturday. No surprise there, the forecasters had been banging on about the possibility for days, but there was not nearly as much “white stuff” as they predicted. Certainly not enough to build a snowman, but who cares – we had our fill of snowmen a few weeks ago, and spotted some snowdogs too, when we explored a couple of local sculpture trails organised by Wild in Art.

Eight Maids a-Milking, by Donna Newman

Both trails were inspired by the work of Raymond Briggs (1934 – 2022), a notable illustrator of children’s books. The Snowman was first published in 1978, and remains his most celebrated work. It is a story told entirely without words, relying instead upon a sequence of simple pencil crayon illustrations.

Eleven Pipers Piping, by Sue Guthrie

The Snowman is a magical tale of a boy who builds a snowman in his garden and is astonished when his creation comes to life at the stroke of midnight. Boy and snowman play together happily, but without making a sound to avoid waking the boy’s parents. Later, after a shared candlelit feast, the loveable snowman flies through the air above the snowclad English countryside with the entranced boy held tightly under his arm.

Seven Swans a-Swimming, by Laura-Kate Chapman

When their flight is over the pair return home, the boy to his bed and the snowman to the garden. Upon waking the next morning the boy rushes into the garden to re-join his new best friend, but a thaw has set in and the snowman is little more than a pile of slush. It’s a sad end, a reminder that nothing is forever and that all things must pass, but the abiding memory is of the cheerful, chubby, larger-than-life character of the snowman.

Four Calling Birds, by Laura-Kate Chapman (the other two are on the snowman’s back!)

Such was the impact of Briggs’ enchanting story that in 1982 it was adapted into a 30 minutes long animated film for television. The film caught viewers’ imagination and brought The Snowman story to a whole new audience. It has been repeated regularly ever since.

Twelve Drummers Drumming, by Sue Guthrie

Today the loveable snowman is a Christmas icon, recognised by one and all, so it was no surprise to see Briggs’ creation starring in a sculpture trail at Clumber Park, Nottinghamshire, during the final weeks of 2024. The trail featured a series of sculptures of our hero, his ample body covered with designs inspired by the ever-popular festive song “The Twelve Days of Christmas”.

Six Geese a-Laying, by Matilda Elizabeth
Partridge in a Pear Tree, by Donna Newman

As I’ve written previously about similar Wild in Art sculpture trails that we’ve followed in recent years, this one wasn’t about sophisticated art or high culture. It was nevertheless a great way to get into the Christmas spirit, to throw off the miseries that Covid had inflicted upon us just a couple of weeks earlier, and to have some much-needed fun.

Five Gold Rings, by Adam Pekr
Two Turtle Doves, by Megan Heather Smith-Evans

* * * * *

The impact of the original snowman film was so great that canny television executives craved a sequel. It duly came to pass in 2012. Raymond Briggs gave The Snowman and the Snowdog his blessing, although he was not personally involved in the project. The story introduces a brand new character, a snowdog, who enjoys a series of magical adventures alongside the snowman and the boy.

Ru Dog, by Donna Newman

The snowdog inspired his own sculpture trail in October 2024, in the elegant Derbyshire town of Buxton. If I’m honest, this one was not quite up to the standard of the snowman trail that we visited a few weeks later, with several of the designs seeming a little lacklustre. Nevertheless tracking down the snowdog sculptures was a good excuse for a day out, free entertainment in a part of Derbyshire that we really should try to visit more often. Later in the year, maybe…

Clockwise from Top Left: Rosy Posy by Jessica Perrin; Elf, by Amanda Quellin; Starry Night, by Benjamin Fowler; Sparky, by Wild in Art; Ginger, by Donna Newman; Gizmo, by Wild in Art; Roodle, by Easy Grass.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, at Wentworth Woodhouse

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With the Big Day fast approaching, and our recent encounter with Covid weighing less heavily upon our bodies, we decided to make one more attempt to get into the festive spirit by checking out the Christmas decorations at Wentworth Woodhouse in South Yorkshire. I’ve written previously about Wentworth Woodhouse, one of England’s grand stately homes, which is being rescued from a state of near ruin by a determined Preservation Trust.

The theme for Wentworth Woodhouse’s Christmas 2024 decorations was “A visit from St Nicholas”, based on a nineteenth century American poem. Beyond the first four lines (“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.”) it’s not a poem I know at all well, and the connection between it and the lights display was largely lost on me at the time.

But who cares, the lights were bright and colourful, and the scattering of highly decorated fir trees – with wrapped presents piled up beneath – left us in no doubt that Christmas was indeed upon us. This has been a tough year in so many ways and I’m grateful, therefore, for the couple of hours of innocent escapism that Wentworth Woodhouse’s Christmas decorations offered us. It wasn’t sophisticated, it wasn’t artistically challenging, it wasn’t – in any sense of the term – “high culture”, but it was fun, and don’t we all need a bit of that right now.

And with that thought, it’s time for me to sign off for 2024 by thanking anyone out there who ever reads or comments on this blog. Your continuing interest has helped keep my spirits up throughout another challenging year. It’s my absolute pleasure to wish you a Merry Christmas, and Happy & Healthy New Year. See you in 2025, guys!

May Santa be kind to you this Christmas!

Exotic no longer – the Great White Egret

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Watching wildlife is addictive. Over several decades Mrs P and I have travelled the world to get our fix of animals and birds that we had no hope of ever seeing in the UK. Take Great White Egrets, for example. When we started our quest, they were impossible to find here. We encountered them first in the USA and India, and were well pleased with our achievement. And yet today we see them regularly in wetland habitats across the UK. The Great White Egret is exotic no longer.

At Nalsarovar Bird Sanctuary, Gujarat, India, 2013

The Great White Egret is a large, white heron. It is easy to distinguish from the Grey Heron, a species familiar to birders throughout this country, but can be confused with Little Egrets. The Little Egret is, as its name suggests, a good deal smaller than the Great White Egret, and has yellow feet and a black bill – the Great White, meanwhile, has black feet and a yellow bill. Confused? Me too! Numbers of Little Egrets have surged in recent years, something I wrote about in this post from 2021.

Seen in Texas, USA, 2012

Until around 15 years ago, Great White Egrets were impossibly rare visitors to these shores, and few birders ever got to see them. All that has now changed. The bird had been slowly expanding its range northwards and westwards in Continental Europe for some time, and around 2010 finally began to make the flight across the English Channel to see what the British Isles had to offer.

Great White Egret alongside the more familiar Grey Heron, at RSPB Blacktoft Sands Nature Reserve, East Yorkshire, 2024

The key drivers behind the expansion in Continental Europe are unclear. Possible explanations include improvements to habitat, reduced persecution, and – inevitably – climate change.

At Attenborough Nature Reserve, Nottinghamshire, 2021

Whatever the reason, British birders are clearly beneficiaries. Accurate, up-to-date population data is difficult to track down, but it appears that overwintering Great White Egrets now number at least 100 individuals. They are most frequently found in south-east England and East Anglia, but are moving steadily northwards and can now also be seen in Scotland too.

At RSPB Welney Nature Reserve, Cambridgeshire, 2022

The species first bred in the UK in 2012, and there could now be more than 20 breeding pairs spread across the country. There is every likelihood that numbers will continue to grow for years to come, meaning that Mrs P and won’t be returning to the US or India when we feel the need to re-acquaint ourselves with this handsome heron!

The scariest thing about going to a museum

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What’s the point of museums? Maybe they exist to remind us, as novelist L. P. Hartley explained in The Go Between, that “the past is a foreign country; they do things differently there”. Museums reveal the weird and wacky ways of our ancestors, and in so doing make us grateful we’ve not had to live like that. We don’t expect to see our own lives on display in a museum.

Street scene from Beamish 1950s Town

A couple of months ago Mrs P and I made a return visit to the Beamish Open Air Museum in County Durham, a “living, working museum that uses its collections to connect with people from all walks of life and tells the story of everyday life in the North East of England.” Since our last visit in 2019, they’ve opened a major new exhibit: The 1950s Town. And this was where Beamish Museum got spooky – I was born in the 50s, and many of the items on display seemed achingly familiar. I was home again, in a land I’d all but forgotten.

The 1950s Town comprises several houses dressed and furnished in the style prevalent at the time. Walking through them I feel as if I’m back in my dear old grandmother’s West London terrace, the living room with its tedious wallpaper, chunky brown furniture and a curvy clock ticking happily on the mantelpiece; the kitchen with its plain, glass-fronted cupboards, “Belfast sink” and shiny white enamelled cooker. I almost expect her to walk through the door and offer to make me a bread pudding, one of my childhood favourites. Yes please, nan!

Achingly familiar. My grandmother would have felt at home here.

There is also a reconstructed street comprising shops and similar outlets, done out in 1950s style. These include a music shop, displaying vinyl records and various electrical appliances that must have been state-of-the-art back in the day. There was no streaming back in the 50s, no Spotify, no Amazon! How did they ever manage, we wonder ironically?

In the 1950s / early 1960s stuff like this would have been the wonder of the age.

The street also houses a toy shop stocked with items that were popular with mid-century kids, and here I stumble across an item that takes my breath away. It must be nearly 60 years since I last saw or thought about my Bayko Building Set, “the fascinating never failing diversion for Boys and Girls”, but here’s one, staring back at me from its friendly yellow box.

Memories of my childhood. Oh, happy days!

Bayko was a construction toy based on plastic and metal components, and could be used to build little houses of various designs. Other kids in my class had Lego, but I had Bayko and I loved it. For a few months it was my go-to toy, and as I stand in the shop at Beamish the memories come flooding back. Oh, happy days!

I never managed to build anything as grand as this. But I could dream!

But how odd it feels, to see part of my childhood behind glass in a museum display cabinet. I can just imagine kids born a few years ago dragging their attention away from their mobile phones for a few moments to inspect the exhibit, then saying “Mummy, did children really play with THAT sort of thing? Did they? Really?”

And that, I think, is the scariest things about going to the museum – finding your own treasured past put out there for everyone to inspect, and then dismissed as boring or quirky or quaint. A reminder, if ever we needed one, that all things pass, and that stuff which today seems so important will eventually be regarded as odd and inconsequential. Nothing is forever,

Christmas already! Harewood House lights up.

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It’s that time of year again, when stately homes up and down the land get dressed up in Christmas finery, and members of the public pay handsomely for the privilege of seeing what they’ve been up to. The grouch in me says that mid-November is way too early for this kind of thing, but as we were passing nearby on our way back from a gig, Mrs P and I decided to call in at Harewood House to inspect its take on Christmas.

Located close to Leeds in the county of West Yorkshire, Harewood is a grand country mansion designed by architects John Carr and Robert Adam. It was built between 1759 and 1771 for Edwin Lascelles, the 1st Baron Harewood, a wealthy West Indian plantation and slave owner. As the Harewood website clearly acknowledges, the origins of the house are totally abhorrent, but the building itself is an outstanding example of Georgian architecture and design, and boasts a wealth of fine furniture and art.

The theme of Harewood’s Christmas in 2024 is Mischief at the Mansion. The website explains that “a troop of not-so-angelic cherubs have escaped from the Christmas tree and Harewood House sparkles into life with singing baubles, swirling ceilings and gossiping statues. Marvel as the House tells you festive tales of bygone times…”

There is much more to admire here than the standard Christmas fayre of extravagantly decorated fir trees and colourful flashing lights, including witty spoken dialogue between the cherubs and extensive use of projected, moving imagery.

The Christmas tree baubles were engaged in lively conversation!

The Christmas cakes also had a lot to say for themselves!

Unfortunately, much of this show – and it is a show – doesn’t lend itself well to photography, so you’ll have to believe me when I say that the result is spectacular. A lot of time and money was clearly spent to impress paying visitors, ensuring that the “wow factor” is alive and well at Harewood this Christmas.

Harewood House is open for visits all year round, and based on what we saw a couple of weeks ago I’d happily return at another time of year. This would enable us to better appreciate its fine architecture, furniture and art without the ongoing distractions of Christmas bling and cheeky cherubs! Next year, maybe?

Searching for seals (timing is everything!)

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We recently spent a couple of days searching for seals. It’s not difficult if you know where to look, particularly at this time of year. There are a few UK beaches where grey seals haul out in large numbers, the females to give birth to new pups and the males to mate with those females as soon as they’re given the opportunity.

A mother’s love. Taken at Donna Nook, 27 November 2015.

The UK’s grey seals are a conservation success story. Back in the early 20th century just a few hundred made their home here. Today, the total stands at around 120,000, which accounts for roughly 40% of the entire world population.

Grey Seal at Horsey Gap, 4 November, 2024.

The recovery of these impressive marine mammals in the UK is thanks largely to a change in the law in 1970. Before that date the seals were heavily persecuted by fishing communities, which regarded them as pests. The new law gave them protection for the first time, allowing them to get on with their lives as nature intended.

Grey Seals on the beach. Horsey Gap, 4 November 2024.

The boom in grey seal numbers has made it easier for members of the public to get up close and personal with them. But improved access also increases the risk of disturbance, and to help mitigate this “seal wardens” are on hand at several beaches to watch over them and intervene when problems arise.

At the water’s edge. Grey Seals at Horsey Gap, 4 November 2024

One of these beaches is at Horsey Gap on the north-east coast of Norfolk. When we visited earlier in the month the wardens were doing a great job of telling people more about the seals under their protection. We learned that…

  • male grey seals (bulls) live up to 25 years, reaching sexual maturity at six years. Females (cows) can live up to 35 years, and start to breed at some point between the ages of three and five years.
  • grey seals can dive to depths of 300m, and stay under water for around 20 minutes.
  • grey seal milk contains up to 50-60 % fat, ten times more than a Jersey cow’s milk.
  • when they are born pups weigh around 13kg, but just three weeks later they weigh around 45kg.
  • female grey seals abandon their pups after suckling them for just 17 to 23 days. The pups stay behind on the beach, living off their fat reserves, for another three weeks while they moult off their white coats and grow a grey waterproof one.
  • adult cow seals weigh up to 250kg, while bulls weigh up to 350kg (to put this into context, former world heavyweight boxing champion Mike Tyson weighed in at a mere 103kg for his controversial fight with Jake Paul in Dallas on 15 November 2024!).

Little and large. Donna Nook, 14 November 2014

Our visit to Horsey Gap was towards the start of the pupping season, meaning that we saw fewer adult seals than we’d hoped, and just a couple of white-coated pups. In the winter 2021/21 season, 2,500 pups were born at Horsey and nearby Winterton, so clearly the best was yet to come. But although not the spectacular sight we’d expected, it was still a great experience to watch them squabbling in the waves and chilling out on the beach.

Adorable! Donna Nook, 27 November 2015

It was a similar story at Donna Nook, an area of Lincolnshire coastline that is well known for its grey seals. Unlike Horsey Gap, which was new to us, we have previously visited Donna Nook on a couple of occasions. When we were there in mid November 2014, and again in late November 2015, large numbers of adult seals were hauled out and many fine looking pups were on show, the epitome of adorable cuteness. Even better, the seals were lying at the very top of the sweeping sandy beach, almost within touching distance of fascinated onlookers who were gathered behind the wire fencing that kept the two parties apart.

Squabble on the beach. Donna Nook, 14 November 2014

This year, however, we visited very early in November 2024, and at the time of our visit only a few grey seals had so far arrived for the pupping season. More disappointing still, those that were there had settled down close to the water’s edge and were therefore a very long way from their human audience. The warden explained that it would take a high tide, and perhaps a day or two of stormy weather, to drive the animals further up the beach to a place where they would be easier to observe.

Messy pup. Donna Nook, 14 November 2014,

We left Donna Nook a little deflated. Our previous visits encouraged us to expect much more, but the experience is a clear reminder that, when you watch wildlife, timing is everything. We got it slightly wrong this year. Oh dear, we’ll just have to go back!

Bulls, cows and pups. A Donna Nook selection from November 2014, 2015 and 2024

Luckily, Mrs P took lots of great seal photos on our two previous visits to Donna Nook, and I have used some of them to help illustrate this post. They are a clear demonstration that, if you get the timing right, watching grey seals at pupping time is one of the UK’s great wildlife spectacles.