We’re the REAL POLDARKS
Meet the delightfully dotty toffs who own THAT mansion and whose daughter caught Captain Ross in his budgie smugglers
‘He’s rather slight and hasn’t much to hang onto’
‘We love Demelza — she plays with our dogs’
FOR a room with no lighting, a surprisingly small bed, priceless 17th-century tapestries adorning every inch of wall and a centuriesold curse on anyone who sleeps here, Cromwell’s bedroom at Chavenage House in Gloucestershire has seen an awful lot of action over the years.
Endless fashion shoots have taken place here. Bond girl Gemma Arterton and Oscar-winning Eddie Redmayne romped naked on the rather lumpen mattress for BBC’s 2008 version of Tess Of The D’Urbervilles.
And, lately, visitors have been arriving to admire it by the bus load.
No longer, it must be said, in homage to Cromwell, who slept here with his general, Ireton, in the adjoining room back in 1648. No. All they want is to see the spot where Charles Poldark — played by the late Warren Clarke — lay dying in series one of the hit BBC series and, perhaps more importantly, imagine the crunch of gravel outside as his nephew Ross, played by swarthy heart throb Aidan Turner, roared up on his trusty black steed. Because despite being a long haul by horse-drawn coach from Cornwall, for tens of thousands of Poldark fans, Chavenage is Trenwith, the Poldark family home.
‘It used to be Cromwell, Cromwell! Now it’s all Poldark, Poldark!’ says Caroline LowsleyWilliams, who was born here and devotes every waking moment to keeping the place afloat.
Which, right now, involves cheerily taking endless groups of Poldark enthusiasts around her home.
‘Scandinavia, America, Japan . . . we had a girl from Australia with Poldark tattoos all over her leg,’ she says. ‘She had a picture of Ross’s head on her knee!’
They want to see everything: the sweeping driveway, the minstrels’ gallery where Elizabeth Warleggan (played by Heida Reed) paces up and down trying to breathe in her very tight corsets, the ballroom, even the bedroom where Ross and Elizabeth finally got it together in that controversial sex scene in the last series — though sadly, at the last minute, it was filmed in a studio in Bristol.
‘Which was very annoying because they’d commissioned a very nice new four-poster bed which we could have kept,’ sighs Caroline. The bed stayed in Bristol.
But most of all, they want to meet Ross or, more accurately, Aidan.
One lucky group of visitors — whose visit clashed with the BBC filming schedule — actually did. And he was wonderfully charming though, disappointingly, fully clothed. All shirt-off scything scenes are shot in Cornwall. Though lucky Caroline once ran into him in the ballroom, where he was stripping off for a photo shoot.
‘He’s lovely and he was in these very brief little black underpants and, well, everything was in the right place, as it were,’ she says, all aglow at the memory. ‘There’s certainly something attractive about him.’
But when asked if the actor would make a good James Bond — after all, he’s one of the bookies’ favourites — she hesitates.
‘Well, he’s quite slight — he hasn’t got much to hang onto if you know what I mean . . .’
She should know. She’s seen more leading men up close than most — Damian Lewis, Ryan O’Neal, Jamie Dornan, Greg Wise, David Suchet and Mark Rylance have all filmed here in everything from Lark Rise To Candleford to Casualty; Wolf Hall to Barry Lyndon.
It’s easy to see why film crews keep coming back.
Chavenage is an exquisite Elizabethan pile with soft greying stone and sweeping lawns.
Inside is a wonderful jumble of wood panelling, tapestries, gorgeous fireplaces and photos everywhere — a mixture of Lowsley-Williamses and Chavenage actors.
(‘We always say that if they’re good looking, they’re actors, if not — family!’ says Caroline.)
Outside are unspoiled views and dogs, horses and very jolly members of the Lowsley-Williams family everywhere you look — the latter shouting loudly to one another across lawns and stable yards (‘It saves on telephone bills’ explains Caroline).
Every so often Caroline’s brother, George, roars past on the enormous red mower they’ve christened Poldark (because the BBC has paid for it), covered in sweat and grass clippings, cheerily yelling: ‘It’s never-ending!’
Three generations live here: 83-yearold David (who inherited the house from his unmarried Uncle John in 1958), wife Rona, 81, their three children — George, 58, Caroline, 54, and Joanna, 53 — Joanna’s husband, James, who runs a window business nearby, (George has split from his wife, while Caroline is single) and six grandchildren. They are in each other’s pockets constantly, yet still go on holiday to Scotland together every year. ‘We like each other!’ says Caroline. Of course, it goes without saying they often watch Poldark together. ‘It’s a great romp for a Sunday night — it’s not meant to be bloody Shakespeare.’
They are fabulously posh and impeccably connected. Chavenage’s 2,000 acres are sandwiched between Prince Charles’s Highgrove and Princess Anne’s Gatcombe Park.
As boys, Princes William and Harry used to canter over on their ponies to practise on the jumps at Chavenage and admire David’s enormous model railway in the attic.
Princess Anne frequently attends parties here, despite almost being burned alive once when a log rolled out of the fire and under her chair.
‘She’s very no-nonsense,’ says Caroline. ‘She just picked it up and threw it back.’
The family also knew Camilla when she used to ride out with the Beaufort Hunt before she married Charles. And years ago, David welcomed a young Diana Spencer as Charles’s date to one of their balls — though only after spending half the evening muddling her with an old school friend of Caroline’s, who looked vaguely similar.
But like so many landed gentry, they’re long on property but short of cash to care for it.
The roof needs attention, the paintwork is chipped and tired, the boiler is broken and there’s no heating in the main part of the house.
The family members tend to ward off the cold with strong gin and tonics, but are aware their visitors aren’t always so robust.
David was particularly attentive during the filming of Gemma and Eddie’s sex scene for Tess Of The D’Urbervilles. ‘When Dad heard she was a James Bond girl doing a naked scene upstairs, he was unbelievably helpful — wanting to bring her coffee in case she was cold. We had to keep telling him it was a closed set.’
Chavenage has been used for filming since 1972, but Poldark has been their favourite.
Now every year, between September and January, the house is full of Poldark film crews, actors, catering trucks, liveried staff, wing collars, wigs, ruffs and endless glazed hams and aspic-coated jellies.
Three series down, the family and actors know each other well.
Caroline adores Eleanor Tomlinson (Demelza), who spends ages playing with their dogs, and loves Jack Farthing who plays evil George Warleggan. She was also very fond of poor Warren Clarke and worries that the curse of Cromwell’s room might have done for him.
‘No one else has slept in the bed since before the war, though a couple were caught in here at my 21st, but they weren’t sleeping!’ she says. ‘Warren was filmed dying in it and, well, three weeks later he dropped dead — not that we should link these things, of course . . .’
But it turns out the family’s real love is for the on-site catering vans. ‘We get to eat! It’s wonderful,’ laughs George. ‘Good old Poldark!’
‘My father is particularly keen on the breakfast and is there like Pavlov’s dogs,’ says Caroline. ‘The rest of us go up at the end like Oliver Twist to see if anything is left.’
They’re not joking. Because there aren’t many devilled kidneys or glazed hams at Chavenage any more. Or staff, for that matter. They haven’t hired anyone new since 1966.
The once bustling team — 11 inside and many more outside — is reduced to one daily, Della, who joined in 1965 at the age of 15.
As the staff shrunk, the family all mucked in, dividing up the jobs between them. So Joanna did a Leiths cookery course and is now head of catering — whipping up cakes, scones, lunches and cream teas for visitors. George is in charge
of the farm and grounds and mowing. And Caroline — a trained horse auctioneer — runs the place — leading tours, manning the office, running endless events and spending more time than she’d like economising in Tesco, looking for two-for-one deals on own-brand loo paper. ‘I often think, “Really? Can’t I just have Andrex for once?” ’ she sighs.
She’s also in charge of the inevitable wedding business. ‘Weddings are our bread and butter, but I wouldn’t wish them on anyone. They’re a nightmare,’ she confesses. ‘The brides are so involved these days. I much prefer funerals because they have a shorter run-in time.’
They would never be so vulgar as to reveal the fees they receive from the BBC, but Poldark has been the family’s lifeline. ‘For the first time in seven years, my parents will go to bed this winter and not have a black patch of damp on the ceiling above them,’ says Caroline.
As well as paying for the giant lawnmower, the BBC has painted five rooms at Chavenage and provided nine sets of curtains. ‘Good old Poldark,’ says Caroline. ‘If we get to series 23, we might think about fixing the organ, but, right now, all I care about is the boiler.’
In the meantime, it’s all work, work, work.
A group of Spanish visitors has arrived an hour early, so George hastily dismounts Poldark-themower, Caroline drops everything and the pair dash off down the sweeping drive, brushing grass cuttings and crumbs off their crumpled shirts on the way, to welcome the next gang of Poldark enthusiasts with wide smiles and tall tales.