It is a truth universally acknowledged...

...that Jane Austen wrote some of English literature's most beloved novels. 

And last weekend we visited the heavenly village in which most of those novels were written and sent out into the world to be published (and still read, quoted and adored 200 years later).

That village is the picturesque Chawton, where roses ramble up Hampshire-brick cottages and the village cat is called Marmite. He is known to every household as he visits each in turn every morning for his breakfast.

Jane came to live in Chawton, in the South Downs National Park, after her father died. Jane and her sister Cassandra were rendered socially and financially vulnerable upon his death, so moved to the shelter of a cottage (below) on the Chawton House Estate, owned by their wealthy brother, Edward. That cottage is now The Jane Austen House Museum, visited by hundreds of thousands of people each year. The cottage is beautiful and has some of the most profoundly important objects relating to the life and legacy of Jane Austen on display, not least the very writing table on which she wrote and reworked most of her published works. It is quite the experience.

The Chawton Estate is beautiful. An Elizabethan Mansion, surrounded by the most verdant green countryside you could possible imagine. It is the quintessential English idyll. 

Inside, Jane is of course celebrated, but so are other female novelists. This year, as it is the 200th anniversary of Northanger Abbey, the gothic novel is the main focus. Chawton House is home to some of the most precious first edition and rare books in England, kept in a locked and climate controlled library, it is an exciting room to get a peek at. 

The Jane Austen rose growing in the walled garden at Chawton House.

Below is the parish church, situated on the estate, it is the burial place of Jane's mother and sister. Jane herself is buried in nearby Winchester Cathedral. Jane travelled to Winchester at the end of her life to be near a doctor due to her failing health. She never returned to Chawton, dying a short time later just a couple of doors away from the cathedral.  

The bronze of Jane at the top of this post was commissioned to commemorate the 200th anniversary of her death. It was displayed next to her grave in Winchester Cathedral. The original 1817 plaque erected at her grave gave no mention of her novels, and her funeral was attended by only four people. Later, a second plaque was inscribed more fittingly,

'Jane Austen, known to many by her writings..'

The most beautiful thing about Chawton, and indeed The Jane Austen House Museum, is that although it is a year-round tourist destination and a sort of Mecca for Austenites the world over, it does not feel at all touristy, gimmicky or commercialised. It so sympathetically and gently celebrates Jane's contribution to English literature and indeed popular culture. We arrived, entirely by coincidence, at the start of regency week, and even then the village was relatively quiet and devoid of unseemly commercialisation. Perhaps illustrating my point best is that the tickets you purchase to visit her cottage and her brother's estate are valid for a whole year. I can't think of anywhere else I have visited in England that is less mercenary than that!

And we, having had a small chunk of our hearts stolen by Hampshire and Chawton in particular, will certainly be back to take advantage of such a benevolent gesture.

Kate  x

The prettiest village in England

Castle Combe is often referred to as The Prettiest Village in England, owing to winning the title in, oh, 1961. Once labelled the prettiest village in England, you don't relinquish that particular title freely it seems. Even after 56 short years.

Half a century later, I think Castle Combe really does continue to live up to its reputation. Heritage protection means that even in the 21st Century the village looks almost exactly as it would have 100, 200, 300 years ago. A ready-made film set, a tourist hot spot, it is the Mecca of quintessential English villages. Anglophiles must visit at least once in their lifetime. 

So, what makes The Prettiest Village in England, even prettier?

Why the answer is, of course, snow. The best snowfall the Cotswolds have seen in 5+ years to be exact. A beautiful dusting of snow on a Sunday, just before Christmas, turning the village into a real life Christmas snow globe. These ingredients resulted in a magical winter day that I could never adequately put into words.

So here are the pictures.

On my final wander through the village at dusk I couldn't quite believe the perfect Christmas-time winter wonderland I was experiencing. The snow was still gently falling, the Yuletide fairy light crucifix on top of the church tower was aglow, and several chimneys sent steady trails of smoke into the quiet of the late afternoon. As darkness descended and we were cosy and warm inside next to our own fire, an owl began to hoot in the branches of a tree outside our living room window. It was the stuff of fairytales.

Bitterly cold temperatures and an overnight frost snap froze the remaining snow in place for a couple of days, extending the winter wonderland for us to soak up. 24 hours after the snow finished falling I drove over to my friend's house, marvelling at the spectacle. I turned down the icy and narrow country lane leading to her stunning 18th century farmhouse as the afternoon sky surrendered to nightfall. The hedgerows were bare, silhouetted against the darkening candy pink sky, the orange glow of the sun just about to dip below the horizon, the surrounding countryside still blanketed by snow. To many west country folk, farmers included i'm sure, this was a harsh wintry scene and an indication of a hard winter season to endure. I was only in awe. The stark beauty was breathtaking. Infused with magic.

I can't properly convey the beauty of the English countryside covered by a December snowfall. Dare we begin to hope for a white Christmas?

Seasons best,

Kate  x

P.S. A reflection on life in the village in other seasons can be read, here.

Pemberley (aka Lyme Park)

Pemberley sits on the border of Cheshire and Derbyshire, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet was correct, "I have never seen a house so happily situated."

The reflection lake lives up to its name, creating the perfect mirror image of the house on its calm surface.

The gardens are small and mostly informal, preference is given to a more natural arrangement that sees the trees and the woodlands as champion features. The parkland is extensive, with wide views stretching out over Derbyshire below, a deer herd roam the moor-like land.

Of course, Lyme Park celebrates its fame as the Pemberley in the BBCs adaptation of Pride & Prejudice. Visitors can dress in full regency attire as they wander the opulent house and beautiful grounds, all the while imagining the life Mrs Darcy married into.

The Orangery

The angle we are most familiar with, is actually the rear of the house. And despite what the television series would have us believe, the driveway to the house doesn't go past the lake at all. Still, it was magical to see this beautiful place with my very own eyes. And no, I didn't pull on a busty regency frock, nor was Alex tempted by the velvet overcoats and top hats on offer.

I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It was too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. 

Jane Austen.

Kate  x

"God's own county" Yorkshire: Part Two

On the cusp of Samhain as the sun goes down, the floodlit remains of a tenth century monastery takes on an other worldly atmosphere. We arrived at the ghostly ruins of Fountains Abbey as the sky turned to pastel shades of pink and blue, and stayed until the clouds began to part and the stars appeared above us. 

Seeing the silhouette of the abbey against the darkening sky as monastic hymns carried through the ruins was incredibly magical.

We sat in a now-empty window of what was once the cellarium, where the Benedictine monks would have eaten and slept, to hear the choir perform their beautiful music. 

And with another Samhain observing the end of the harvest season behind us, we now begin to think of all things Christmas.

Kate  x

"God's own county" Yorkshire: Part One

Yorkshiremen have absolutely no hesitation in proclaiming Yorkshire as God's own county. Whether it is a legitimate claim or not? That's for anyone who dares debate the point with a born & bred Yorkshirian to answer. Let me know the outcome. 

An American decided to write a book

 about famous churches around the world, 

so he bought a plane ticket and took a trip to Rome. 

On his first day he was inside a church taking 

photographs when he noticed a golden telephone 

mounted on the wall with a sign that read $10,000 per call' 

The American, being intrigued, asked a priest who was 

strolling by what the telephone was used for. 

The priest replied that it was a direct line to 

heaven and that for $10,000 you could talk to God. 

The American thanked the priest and went along his way.

Next stop was in Moscow. There, at a very 

large cathedral, he saw the same golden telephone 

with the same sign under it. He wondered if this 

was the same kind of telephone he saw in Rome 

and he asked a nearby nun what its purpose was. 

She told him that it was a direct line to heaven 

and that for S10,000 he could talk to God. 

'O.K., thank you,' said the American. 

He then traveled to France, Israel, Germany and Brazil. 

In every church he saw the same golden telephone 

with a '$10,000 per call' sign under it. 

The American finally decided to travel to the UK to see 

if the British had the same phone. 

He arrived in York and again, in the Minster, 

there was the same golden telephone, but this time 

the sign under it read '20p per call.' The American was surprised 

so he asked the priest about the sign. 

'Reverend, I've traveled all over World and I've seen this same 

golden telephone in many churches. I'm told that it is a direct line to 

Heaven, but everywhere I went the price was $10,000 per call. 

Why is it so cheap here?' 

The priest smiled and answered, 

'You're in Yorkshire now Lad, - it's only a local call'.

We started at York's crowning jewel, the glistening York Minster.

The first church on this site was built in 627. Since then it has been damaged, destroyed, built and rebuilt numerous times. Much of the building was constructed between the 13th and 15th Century, and in 1472 the completed cathedral was consecrated. Today, York Minster requires a sum of 

£21, 000 per day to run. The restoration bills run into the millions. On more than one occasion it has had to be rescued from fire or near-collapse. But as one of Europe's finest Gothic cathedrals, it is more than worthy of the care, attention, and staggering cost.

The Nave

The Crossing

The King's Screen

Some of York Minster's 128 stained glass windows date back to the 12th Century. The famous Rose window was successfully saved from ruin by a fire ignited by suspected lightning strike in 1984. 

The Five Sisters Window

This series of windows dates from the mid-1200s and was removed during World War I to protect the stained glass from Zeppelin raids. It is the only memorial in England dedicated to commemorating the women of the British Empire who were killed during the Great War. Amongst the names inscribed on oak panelling beside the window is Edith Cavell- the British nurse who was shot in 1915 by German firing squad for her role in assisting 200 Allied soldiers to escape from German occupied Belgium. 

Climbing the 275 steps to the top of the central tower is a great, albeit blustery, way to take in the city from the highest point in York. 

From up here you can see the historic streets of York, parts of the city walls, the ruins of the Abbey of St Mary's, and on a clear day, as far away as the Yorkshire Dales.

If you're a National Trust member, The Treasurer's House, tucked in behind York Minster is very much worth a look. Historically the house was provided to the treasurer of York Minster, the man responsible for overseeing all of the finances relating to the Minster. Filled with beautifully ornate furniture and exquisite portraits, it was one of the very first properties complete with its land and all of its contents to be given intact to the National Trust.  

Of course, you can't visit York as a tourist without braving a walk down the best preserved mediaeval street in the world, The Shambles. Cheek by jowl, sightseers flock to see the crooked, slanting timber structures of what was once a row of butcher shops and homes. It is still possible in places to see the butcher hooks that the meat would have hung from.

From the History of York website

'In some sections of the Shambles it is possible to touch both sides of the street with your arms outstretched.  The architecture which now appears so quaint had a very practical purpose.  The overhanging timber-framed fronts of the buildings are deliberately close-set so as to give shelter to the ‘wattle and daub’ walls below.  This would also have protected the meat from any direct sunshine.'

York is a bustling and lively city. You can't stand still for long, lest you get swept up in the crowds of tourists and locals alike, as they're funnelled through the narrow entanglement of streets in a city comprised of centuries upon centuries of layered history. 

Kate  x