SECLUDED SPLENDOUR
Despite bomb damage and division by property developers, the grandeur of Sneyd Park House remains undiminished
Shielded from the road by mature shrubs and trees, and further screened by huge magnolias either side of its impressive porte cochère, Sneyd Park House in Bristol is resolutely hidden from view. For Emelia and Richard Smithson, whose apartment occupies the entire ground !oor, this unusual sense of seclusion was a key part of its charm. The couple, who own the Aqua chain of restaurants, had been looking for a house but changed their minds when a friend persuaded them to take a look at the apartment. ‘ The minute I walked in I thought, “Yes!”’ says Emelia, recalling that "rst visit 13 years ago. ‘ It had everything a house would have: its own front door and a private garden, yet all on one level.’
But it wasn’t simply the practicalities that won her over, it was also the grandeur: high ceilings decorated with ornate plasterwork and deep decorative cornices, wood-panelled walls, shuttered windows and
fabulous !oor tiles. ‘ I completely fell in love with it,’ she says.
Built in 1880 for James Derham, a wealthy shoe manufacturer, Sneyd Park House was "#ed out by the best interior designers and cabinetmakers of the day, including Gillows, whose original design for the drawing room remains in situ. The interior was featured in The British Home of Today, published in 1904, and a copy of the book has remained with the house ever since. Although the building’s later history is not quite so well documented, colourful anecdotes have been diligently passed from owner to owner. The best concerns Winston Churchill, who reputedly held at
least one war cabinet meeting in the drawing room while the house was brie y owned by the Ministry of Defence during the Second World War.
‘ It’s amazing the room is here at all,’ says Emelia, pointing to a sizeable gap in the boundary wall at the back of the house. ‘ That’s where a bomb landed and the shockwave took out the main staircase, destroyed the huge conservatory and blew out all the upstairs windows.’ By some miracle, the intricate strapwork ceiling with its square pendants remained unscathed. In fact, throughout the ground oor, most of the original details were spared, and Emelia found many more hidden under layers of hardboard and paint. It has taken the best part of 11
‘That’s where a bomb landed and the shockwave took out the main staircase… and blew out all the upstairs windows.’
years for her vision for the apartment to come to fruition. ‘ It was a big project,’ she says. ‘ But I do love a project!’
For the most part, Emelia let the architectural details and scale of the rooms dictate her approach.‘ You can’t really compete with a ceiling like this. It’s like a wedding cake,’ she says of her decision to use a neutral colour pale! e in the drawing room. ‘ I had to keep it simple.’ Elsewhere, the reverse was true. ‘ The walls in the bedrooms are so wide and tall that we had to "ll them with something spectacular,’ she says, referencing the splendid murals in the spare bedroom and kitchen, both of which came from Angel and Boho. The solution in the master bedroom, however, was more conventional, though no less impressive: a waterfall of silk draped from a high half-tester.
Most of the antique furniture was inherited from her mother and grandmother, who #ed India a $er Partition in 1947, its provenance now long forgo! en. An intricately carved, drop-leaf tea table and an elegant Chinese- style lacquer cabinet in the drawing room are favourite pieces; both carry enormous sentimental value, as does a Victorian bow-fronted wardrobe in one of the bedrooms. ‘ It would make more sense to have a built-in wardrobe but I wouldn’t part with it for anything,’ she says. Fortunately, Emelia hasn’t had to make such compromises. ‘ The rooms are so huge they just swallow up furniture,’ she says, adding that the
Most of the antique furniture was inherited from her mother and grandmother, who !ed India a"er Partition in 1947, its provenance now long forgo#en.
classic-looking contemporary sofas in the drawing room were chosen to bridge the gap between her antiques and a handful of modern designs, such as the sleek deco- style console table, which Richard prefers.
The apartment really comes into its own at this time of year, when Emelia goes all out with lavish decorations. A week before Christmas and the dining table is already set in the wide hallway at the centre of the apartment. ‘ Look, I’m really pleased with these,’ she says, pointing to a cluster of Victorian and Edwardian decanters stoppered with candles. ‘ When else does one ever use them?’ she laughs. Planning for Christmas starts in early October and Emelia usually enlists the help of her friend Edward Allen, a !orist. ‘ We’re like a couple of girls on the phone. This year I rang him and said: “I’m thinking hunting, shooting and "shing!”’ she says, by way of explaining the wreath the size of a tractor wheel on the front door and the spectacular tree in the drawing room, both of which are resplendent with berries, pheasant feathers and Harris tweed bows. The overall e#ect is both traditional and wildly eccentric, which is entirely in keeping with the original aesthetic of Sneyd Park House and James Derham’s ! amboyant taste.
‘The walls in the bedrooms are so wide and tall that we had to ll them with something spectacular.’