The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
From Gladstone’s pad to the grandest stay in Wales
One wing of the 19th-century Liberal prime minister’s home is now available as a holiday let. Sarah Baxter checks in – and finds that his spirit lives on
The hearth in the West End’s lounge was blazing, its smokey snap-crackle warming the room, flickering across its piles of books and works of art. Next to it was a barrel-size basket, brimful of logs, ready to feed the flames. William Gladstone – born just over 214 years ago on Dec 29 1809 – surely would have approved. Those logs might not have been chopped by this colossus of Victorian politics – who loved swinging axes, literal and metaphorical – but his spirit was palpable nonetheless.
I was staying at Hawarden Castle, the 18th-century Flintshire mansion, later turreted in the Gothic style, which the Liberal prime minister inherited via his wife in the mid-19th century. Even during his four non-consecutive premierships, when this great reformer was tackling taxation, free trade, voting rights and Irish relations, he spent a lot of time here. It is where he worked, read, cut down trees – and also where he died, in 1898.
Now, after a transformation by William’s great-great grandson Charlie and his wife Caroline, one wing of Hawarden has just opened as perhaps the country’s grandest holiday let. While there is a mutton-chopped Gladstone bust on the table and a portrait of him covering one wall, the West End is very much Charlie and Caroline’s vision.
“When I took over Hawarden, I’d never had any interest in my family history,” said Charlie Gladstone when we met (he lives in the castle’s eastern end). “I’ve learnt it by trying to take it forwards. As an estate owner, I want to be relevant. To employ people, to welcome visitors. We’re bringing it alive.”
This creative couple, whose backgrounds are in music, hospitality, homewares and interiors, have a voracious appetite for things (“I love stuff,” Charlie said) – but not any old stuff. It has to be beautiful, interesting, rich in personality and provenance – stuff which, when thrown together (ie carefully curated), spawns something joyous and unique. The West End is, they reckon, a pure distillation of their taste.
Fortunately, their taste is great. Richly painted walls are shared by an eclectic ensemble: David Shrigley, JMW Turner, Julian Opie; clocks, pillars, portraits of Gladstone women. It can take a good half-hour, shuffling at museum pace, to get from lounge to loos (which are, of course, also filled with art). It’s the same in the West End’s five bedrooms. In mine, one wall was swallowed by a vast 18th-century oil painting of Don Quixote – “I bought it specifically for the room,” Charlie said. “It took eight men to get it in.”
It seemed almost daunting, staying with so many (expensive) things in a building with history coming out of its eaves – but the West End was supremely relaxed and cosy in spite of all that. I quickly made myself at home, feet up on the sofa, sunk into Welsh wool cushions, book open, Miles Davis on the record player. There are no televisions.
A hamper delivered from Hawarden’s farm shop meant the kitchen was full of goodies, including sourdough baked on site and honey from the estate. And one evening, the head chef Adam Williams came round to cook: a candle-lit indulgence of roast scallops, Tamworth pork and a toffee-sticky almond cake, plus no washing up. The West End also comes with a private woodland garden, where you can toast a marshmallow or soak in the wood-fired tub, as well as access to a lake, if you fancy a wild swim.
Outside the West End’s windows loom the remains of an earlier pile, a 13th-century castle. However, in keeping with the estate’s forward-looking ethos, it can double as a yoga retreat.
Early in 2023, Hawarden opened the Walled Garden School, a cool, covered space inside the ornamental Victorian garden where you can take classes in everything from sign-writing to butchery; this is also where Hawarden’s Summer Camp micro-festivals are held.
A group of us met yogi Emma Garland at the school’s HQ, before she took us out, over the moat and up inside the ancient castle’s ruined walls. Emma led us through stretches and balances – challenging with the wintry gusts – and told us to close our eyes, to envision the world. I tried to imagine Dafydd ap Gruffydd attacking here, as he did in 1282. But between calming deep breaths and the soothing swoosh of the trees, bloody history was hard to conjure.
But, the history – it stayed in my head. While Hawarden is forging into the future, it remains deep-rooted in the past. When I followed footpaths into the estate’s Bilberry Woods, I thought of Gladstone wielding his axe; a thousand people would come to watch him fell these trees: both common labourer and uprooter of corruption. It was a physical and political feat that helped earn him the nickname the “People’s William”. (The Prince of Wales might have something to say about that.) And when I wandered into Hawarden village, I was drawn to the Gladstone Library, built on William’s bequest and containing 20,000 books he wheelbarrowed there himself.
But there was something even better. On the floor below the West End is the Temple of Peace, Gladstone’s own library. It is usually closed to the public, but West End guests can, if they wish, arrange to take a peek. Charlie and Caroline showed me inside.
The room looked largely as if William had just left. Shelves of important gilt-spine tomes jutted from the walls. His two desks – one for private work, one for public – still held his objects, from Downing Street letterheads to a hedgehog paperweight. Charlie opened a cupboard, removed a yellowed box: Gladstone’s business cards. And in the fireplace, an arsenal of axes, some clearly well used.
However, it wasn’t all old. Placed among the antique thoughts and furnishings were works by three contemporary artists, each asked to respond to the room. A scrawled-on map of the British Empire by activist Adah Parris raised the spectres of imperialism, racism and William’s father, John Gladstone – owner of more than 2,500 enslaved people. Rather than shy away from this darker legacy, in August 2023 Charlie apologised for the family’s historical role in slavery, and is funding research on its impacts. Future-looking once again.
“All we can do is make change in our own way,” Charlie told me. Whether that be taking an axe to an issue or evolving a place like Hawarden to be enjoyed in new ways.