Rival Reviews: Tatton Park

A Neo-Classical mansion, a Georgian Landscape Garden, 1000 acre parklands, a working farm, a Medieval Old Hall, a restaurant using farm produce, and a partridge in a pear tree. 

Portico at Tatton Park House

There is much to do at Tatton Park, a property owned by the National Trust but financed and managed by Cheshire East Council. Owned by the Egerton family for roundabout 400 years before being handed over to the Trust in 1958, like most country houses the estate was self-sufficient, and unlike many country houses, this is still evident today. 

The first stop on arrival was the mansion Tatton Hall, remodelled in 1774 by Samuel Wyatt, slightly less famous brother of Thomas, a leading Georgian architect, and their even less famous nephew, Lewis. The Egerton family opted for the Neo-classical vibe, which had begun to somersault to popularity in the mid 18th century in France and Italy. This new, more severe, style called back to classic roots in ancient Greece, and the Palladian style championed by 16th century Venetian architect Andrea Palladio. Palladio’s seminal treatise ‘The Four Books of Architecture’ cemented him as one of the biggest hitters in architectural history, and influenced not just the way we built, but also the way we lived in those buildings. You will, of course, recognise the Neo-classical style from nearly every building ever. Think of a museum, your classic traditional museum. Does it have columns? A triangle roof? There you have it. Andrea Palladio, you will always be famous.

Tatton Hall’s new look involved a eleven-bay garden façade, cut down to a mere seven bays in 1808 after building delays, but an addition of a lovely Corinthian portico made up for it. The inside is also mostly Neo-classical in nature, except for a Rococo dining room with plasterwork from the old house that survived renovation. So that’s nice.

Who knows what treasures we may have uncovered

We all know the biggest appeal of exploring a country house is basically having a bit of a nosy around a large fancy house. The more of the house that’s open, the better. In this respect, Tatton Hall could hardly fail, you can explore almost everywhere, following a neat one way system around the property that will take you from the state rooms to the cellars. Except when we went. Upstairs was closed when we went. 

The servants quarters was particularly interesting, one room containing the personal collection of Tatton Park alumni Lord Maurice Egerton, whose extensive travels have culminated in an ethnographic collection of objects from North America, Africa and Asia. Chief among them is a collection of spears, weaponry and knives from various cultures in Africa, a meteorite, and an object that was unlabelled but looked very much to me like a sizable bomb. 

Maurice Egerton had a slightly bizarre life. An effusive motorist and aerialist, he was friends with the Wright Brothers, the pioneering duo who are credited with creating the first functioning areoplane, so that the likes of you and I may sit in uncomfortable seats, eating microwaved food as we hurtle across the globe. 

Tatton Parks bomb?

After being gifted land in Kenya for service in World War I, Maurice developed a taste for the country, eventually purchasing further land and building an impressive property he dubbed Lord Egerton Castle. The house was built to impress Victoria, Maurice’s on-again off-again girlfriend, who had turned down his previous offer of marriage on account of his house being too small. However, even when confronted with the much larger property, Victoria still turned down his second offer of matrimony and, to rub it in, fled immediately to England. Humiliated and distraught, Maurice vowed never to let a woman again darken his door, and no women were allowed access to his home or grounds again, compelling servants and friends of Maurice to leave their wives and girlfriends at home when visiting the estate. He died heirless in 1958, in the ultimate man cave.

Back in England’s green and pleasant land, following a beautiful lunch, it was time to explore the gardens. They were designed in 1847 by Joseph Paxton, who holds such notable successes as the Crystal Palace and the illustrious gardens at Chatsworth House on his CV. Paxton also cultivated the Cavendish banana, the banana you would be most familiar with in your fruit bowl today. Achievement indeed. 

After walking the wrong way for 10 minutes before coming upon a dead end, the garden proved to be a real treat.

A view over the Japanese garden

One pocket of delightfulness was the Japanese Garden, viewable only from its perimeter. In the style of a traditional tea garden, presumably inspired by Lord Alan De Tatton Egerton’s visit to an anglo-Japanese exhibition, it was assembled in 1910 by a team of Japanese workmen, and it is rumoured the Shinto Shrine and many decorative artefacts were bought directly from Japan to be featured here. It is now said to be ‘the finest example of a Japanese Garden in Europe’, a quote often mentioned but never credited. What makes this garden so unique is its genuine attempt to replicate Japanese garden design with no Westernisation, fully incorporating the symbolisation and traditional placement of aspects like bridges, lanterns and river stones as they are used in Japan. Be under no illusion that this was largely an effect of employing Japanese garden designers. 

The garden is indeed beautiful, though hampered by its limited viewing opportunity from the outside of a demure wooden fence. Unfortunately we do not linger long.

The bountiful blooms in the Rose Garden

If the Japanese garden was the Lord’s vision, then the rose garden was his wife, Anna’s. Lady Anna Egerton had the gardens laid out in 1913, and so enjoyed spending time there alone that gardeners had to be finished with their work by 10am so she did not get interrupted in her solitude by the deafening racket generated by gentle pruning. That kind of thing can really ruin a vibe. Unfortunately at this time of year the gardens are rather depleted of roses, the scene resembling a Tim Burton screenshot more than the interior of a Valentine’s day basket. A few jabs at the plants funny names written on small signs, and we were ready to move on.

Another standout was the conservatory, apparently once used to hold exotic plants from tropical climates, but also doubling as a sanctuary of sorts for tropical frogs and snakes, many of them of the poisonous variety. If such animals still survived here, we did not witness them, but the moss-laden rockery and gentle waterways winding through the glass-coated building was surely an attractive prospective environment to lay one's weary, amphibian head. 


Lunch

A lunch to remember! Much of what is made in the Tatton Park cafe has come directly from their farm, and it shows. The apple cake in particular is something I will dream about for many years to come. Clearly word has gotten around however because the queue is very, very long. 

Stables or Kitchen

Stables! Look out for the merry-go-round, probably not historically accurate, but then neither is the coffee machine. 

Can I take my dog?

The usual. Dogs in the gardens and on the farm, not so welcome in the house, even if Rover has their own National Trust membership card.

Can I take my kids?

Kids will love the farm and the gardens!

Walks

The walking is worth it, with many distracting sights and follies along the way. Be careful in bad weather however, I did slip down a hill. You may also be pleased to hear that the distance between the garden enticements are vastly overestimated on the provided map. 

Well, what did you think?

Council-run properties are often a mixed bag, but this is one of the good ones. Genuinely charming exhibitions and a comprehensive exploration of the house will have you hungry enough for a proper lunch and the gardens are a real treat with some eclectic but charming follies, much of which you would be hard pressed to find in such working order elsewhere. I do find that council-run properties can lack polish, beholden as they are to their funding, but that is in many ways to their advantage, a lack of the regulated jargon you can sometimes find at big name heritage sites means you may be subject to different takes and new ways of doing or seeing. Genuinely worth a day’s visit.

Previous
Previous

Rival Reviews: Hardwick Hall