Northern Ireland provides the perfect setting for a visit full of history and botany, writes Julie Orr-Wilson.
Northern Ireland’s temperate climate makes it a natural for beautiful gardens. Indeed, in Mount Stewart, a short distance from Belfast, it has one of the top 10 gardens in the world. Mount Stewart provides both a house and garden to visit, so it’s a place to spend the day. On the weekend, guides are available and we were fortunate to have head propagator Alan show us around.
The house and garden reflect the taste and style of Edith, Lady Londonderry, influential here between 1878 and 1949. Alan described Edith as "full of pizzazz" and their garden brief now is to "do as they want because she did!". Her sense of humour is on display in the garden where a statue known as "Charlie the Cheetah" references her husband. Edith would often be found dressed in overalls driving around in a pickup truck. She even kept flamingoes on the lake.
In the house she was responsible for lavish interiors, often naming rooms after European cities. The house holds art collections, exquisite furnishings and family treasures. It’s a must see.
On our way to the property we had driven the picturesque route from Newcastle, stopping off at the popular Game of Thrones film-set, where Winterfell Tours operates. Rather than drive the 90 minutes around the lough (lake) to Portaferry we opted for the eight-minute ferry from the village of Strangford instead. This was Viking King Magnus’ "strong fjord". An excellent base for a fort, where the lough (lake) leads east directly into the Irish sea.
Strangford dazzled with it’s beauty, rows of pretty painted 19th-century terrace houses sparkled against the shiny sea. It was cute watching the local schoolgirls decked out in sports gear, swinging their "hurley" (stick) and sliotar (ball), along with their mums, headed for Saturday’s camogie (female equivalent of hurling) games.
Grey Abbey House and gardens was our destination, but first we took a look at the ruins of the 12th-century Cistercian priory that lends the area its name. The nearby village of Greyabbey is known for its antique shops, including the Collectable Quilt Company, which specialises in antique and vintage quilts.
At Grey Abbey House, the finest Georgian country house in Ireland, we are warmly greeted by the Honorable Daphne Montgomery, who leads us around to a sheltered courtyard. There’s a welcome pot of coffee and homemade cheese biscuits. It becomes even more interesting when the wonderful lord of the manor, William Montgomery, appears.
Daphne doesn’t let us linger long, there’s the garden to see. From the large front lawn we look back on the ruined abbey — which has been in the Montgomery family since 1626 — Daphne explaining how "an eye-catcher", a column, temple or ruin, can add such structure to a garden!
Daphne, "not wanting rhodos and all the usuals", and inspired by son Hugo’s stint in Chile 25 years ago, thought creating a southern hemisphere garden seemed a good idea. She’s proud of her New Zealand plants too, calling back to the group that, "Madame New Zealand will agree, they are leafy plants not bloomers". This is a serious garden: Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh uses space at Grey Abbey to hold threatened plants.
It’s hard to keep up with Daphne, this 70-plus year old. She sets a cracking pace and it’s fortunate she is not camouflaged, in her floral Italian pants and elegant hat, against the green. We "run" through the spring garden, the late summer lifestyle garden, "quite vulgar with its oranges and reds", Daphne claims. There’s an orchard of rare Irish apple trees, a shrub rose border and a large run for the rare brood of English bantams and their chicks.
It’s good Daphne pauses for a handful of spinach, for the cook, from the enormous vegetable garden. It gives us time to catch up and look.
Part of the rush is that Daphne does not want us to run late for lunch. Aperitifs in the drawing room are a pretty good start.
Then "Bill" calls to "Angel" (Daphne) that we best be seated. They are such a loving team. It’s homely fare served by the butler. Roast chicken (it looks too big for a bantam) along with new potatoes, courgettes and greens, all from the garden. Then rhubarb under the finest meringue. Coffee and cake to follow.
Then Bill stands and calls the table to order: a gentle tap upon his crystal glass. The expert execution confirms he’s done this many times. And, for a moment sitting around their ancient table, there’s a sense of belonging and genuine warmth as Bill explains the family history, surrounded by the portraits of the many Williams and Hughs that have gone before.
Then there’s a tour of the grade-one listed house: the 18th-century Gothic drawing room; up the divided cantilever staircase; the bedroom inhabited by a ghost (originally Daphne and Bill’s bedroom, after six months of marriage they moved). It is the ghost of Amelia, apparently, still mourning the loss of her brother in war.
Daphne inquires: "Are you all right Amelia?".
Next level: the maid’s quarters, of which there were 12, now down to two; a wig room; a nursery and playroom full of well-loved old-fashioned toys.
As Daphne explains: "this is a home. It’s not for launching Porsche cars. I cannot expect my children to come to a place with no soul!" Recently the venue for a family christening, orders of service for baby Agnes are still stacked on the hallway chiffonier.
As we leave, Daphne runs her hands through a potpourri of lavender demonstrating how the maid would do this each morning before the guests came down. The fragrance fills the air. Yes, Daphne, it is imperative that a garden must have a ruin and that a house must have a soul. These things Madame New Zealand couldn’t agree with more.
- Dunedin-based travel writer Julie Orr-Wilson was a guest of Northern Ireland Tourism.
