Did you know that?
‘Many of the villages easily outdo those in more hackneyed tourist spots, yet when I visited, I had these very attractive places more or less to myself’
even if you don’t intend to buy anything bar a fridge magnet or two.
As for lunch in Lavenham, I’d certainly recommend Munnings Tea Rooms, in the Crooked House on the High Street.
Leaning to the left
The Crooked House is exactly what it says it is – a Tudor timbered house, now leaning quite alarmingly on the building to the left.
It is said to have inspired the old nursery rhyme, ‘ There was a crooked man’. If you ask, they should let you see the upstairs bedroom, where you can wonder at the people who lived in this awkward space.
Since I visited in January, the Crooked House has been put up for sale, so you’ll have to go soon, before some new absentee owner decides daytrippers are not for them.
If it’s dinner you seek, a former resident I know recommends Number Ten, in Lady Street. Sadly, this was shut when I visited in January. So too were Melford Hall and Kentwell Hall, fine country houses in nearby Long Melford, a village of pretty cottages along a surprisingly busy high street.
Both houses were shut when I returned in July, as the lockdown was easing. Luckily, Kentwell Hall’s gardens were open.
Unlike Melford Hall, which was owned until 1539 by the abbots in Bury St Edmunds (presumably not too bothered about camels and eyes of needles), Kentwell Hall is not part of the National Trust. I suspect that is because the current owner, Patrick Phillips QC, only took this place over in 1971 when it lay semi-derelict.
While it has since become best known as a venue for historical re-enactments (sadly curtailed this year), Mr Phillips has clearly taken a big interest in restoring the gardens. And they are a revelation, all the more so as they are not institutionally managed. You won’t find an interpretation centre or gift shop here – although the tea garden served a delicious spinach and raspberry cake.
What you will find is a charmingly individual restoration, including an avenue of Jacquemontii silver birches that must look stunning in the moonlight, a circle of hornbeams you are invited to meditate within, and an avenue of lime trees.
Doves and pigeons
I was particularly drawn to the dovecote. I always assumed they were put in gardens to look pretty – I had never realised that they served a culinary purpose, too, in essentially being a large trap. Historical records show that squabs were regularly collected from here for the cooking pot.
I also used to believe that yew trees took decades to grow. But the yew tree castle in this garden, complete with a tunnel right around the perimeter, has grown up since the current owner took over.
II liked these quirky gardens – they seem very much in keeping with the previous owners of the place. The Clopton family, for example, had a good track record for making bad decisions.
They backed Edward II against his barons (very unwise), were on the Lancastrian side at the Battle of Towton (ditto), and were key movers in trying to put Lady Jane Grey on the throne (sharp intake of breath). Yet somehow they managed to own this place for 300 years!
A subsequent, extravagant, owner had hoped his rich, childless, godfather would leave him everything in his will. But when the man died, the will found in his pocket had not been signed, because he forgot to pick up his spectacles on the way to see the lawyer. The ensuing ruinous legal dispute inspired Dickens to write Bleak House.
Riverside walk
Heading further south still, Sudbury is a scruffier town, and its main attraction, the birthplace of Thomas Gainsborough, is currently closed for redevelopment.
But if you pitch your caravan, as I did, at Willowmere Caravan Park to the south of the town, you will find plenty of pleasant walks along the River Stour, and tempting pubs such as The Henny Swan.
But it isn’t just the towns that you should appreciate here. Many of the villages easily outdo those in more hackneyed tourist spots – yet when I visited, I had these attractive places more or less to myself.
Clare is a perfect example – and it has a great history. Its Augustinian priory was the mother house for the whole of the order in England, set up just four years after Pope Innocent IV helped to establish it in 1248.
Although it was duly sacked by Henry VIII’S men, it is most unusual, in that it is not entirely a ruin: the order bought it back in 1953. As a result you can’t go inside all of it. But you can walk around the grounds and admire the medieval buildings.
The man who took over when the priory was dissolved in 1539, Thomas Barnardiston, lost no time in building himself a very large family pew inside the nearby Church of St Peter and St Paul. The eagle lectern in this impressive church is said to have been a gift from Elizabeth I. If you are wondering why it is so bright inside the church, that is because in 1643, a puritan by the name of William Dowsing made a virtue of smashing every graven image in here, especially the stained glass. He boasted of destroying over 1000 images – although modern researchers think it was more like 200.
Castle viewpoint
Perhaps the best place to enjoy a view of the village is from the top of what remains of Clare Castle. First established in 1090 by Richard fitz Gilbert, a friend of William the Conqueror, the castle reached itsits heyday in the mid-14th century, when hen Elizabeth de Burgh lived here.
During her time, the castle operated a brewery that produced 4000 litres of beer per week and a bakery that made 3000 loaves in the same time - when Clare’s population barely reached 1000.
Today, from this quiet mound, you ou can look down at what remains of the railway station, a rare example of the Industrial Revolution having an impact on this area. The line, of course, is long gone, but its arrival prompted all sorts of hilarious Victorian do-goodery.
For example, one Reverend Stephen hen Jenner decided to build a row of cottages for the railway workers. They still exist today. But when built, they were so expensive that no railway workers ever lived in them. A later philanthropist went bankrupt trying to do something similar with houses that included an early form of cavity wall insulation. ion.
Perhaps the simple truth is, many off the h towns and villages in this charming part of the world were never much good at having such noisy intrusion. That is all the more reason why you should visit them.