Telegraph Magazine 9 Sept 2000
Six years ago Hampton Court in Herefordshire
was a rundown 19th century castle in need of tender loving care. Now,
house and garden have been transformed by an injection of £11
million from an American family who fell in love with the English
countryside. By Leslie Geddes-Brown.
Robert Van Kampen was a reclusive American multi-millionaire who loved
England so much he wanted to own a piece of it. Every time he came
to Britain he made a point of getting out of London to explore the
architecture and the villages and eventually an antiquities dealer
he knew put him on he trail of a dilapidated sandstone castle in the
shires.
Hampton Court in Herefordshire had many attributes that appealed
to him. The imposing 19th century castle, with far earlier origins,
was designed by a gentleman architect for the Arkwright family of
Spinning Jenny fame. Its name may have added extra romance because
of its reminder of London's Hampton Court Palace, but as far as
we know, one is not the other's namesake.
Early in 1994, Van Kampen was keen enough, based on what he had
heard about the property, to bid for it sight unseen from where
he lived in Michigan but his offer was not accepted. However in
May of that year, he and his wife Judith, visited England and, popping
in to see what they had missed, fell seriously in love with Hampton's
tattered charms.
Scott Pierre, married to the Van Kampen's daughter, Karla, recalls
what happened when his parents-in-law discovered that Hampton Court
had still not been sold. "Bob sat down with Mrs Folkes [the
wife of the then owner of Hampton Court]. She rang her husband,
who was frustrated at the situation. He came home. My father-in-law
saw his opportunity and, in 10 minutes, they had a deal. The house,
together with 1,000 acres - later sold on to local farmers - went
for around Knight Frank's guide price of £5 million.
So, almost by accident, the Van Kampens had finally bought a huge
Herefordshire farming estate. 20 acres of parkland plus a house
in very poor shape and a garden that required nothing but constant
grass cutting by three field mowers, because it was nothing but
grass. That was in May 1994. In September of that year the whole
family, Robert, Judith, Scott and Karla arrived in Herefordshire
to decide what to do with their new white elephant. It was the start
of one of the most spectacular acts of private philanthropy in recent
years in this country, resulting in the almost magical transformation
of the estate.
Robert Van Kampen was the founder of Van Kampen Merrit, an investment
banking firm that he sold to Xerox in 1984 for about $200 million.
The family now controls assets of about $79 billion and is lavishing
£12 million on the restoration of Hampton Court and its gardens
and parkland. But they have no plans to live at the house and regard
the whole project as the fulfilment of Robert Van Kampen's lifelong
dream and interests.
Without any plans in the initial stages to develop the gardens,
they began with a huge programme of repair to the Grade 1 listed
house itself. Its battlements and mullions of Forest-of-Dean sandstone
were crumbling, its roof was a goner. As the smart new guidebook
points out laconically: "It was in a state of some disrepair,
the last major work having been carried out
160 years before".
"We put 80 tons of new lead on the roof and 55,000 slates.
The whole was completely scaffolded and two of the towers were replaced.
Our mandate has been to protect it for 25 to 30 years Pierre explains.
A caretaker, Edward Waghorn, was appointed and later became manager.
In five years, he has overseen its new roof, the gradual replacement
of the stonework and complete rewiring of the house. Then came the
garden, almost as an afterthought. "A year after we started
with the restoration, I had an idea that we could do much more,"
says Waghorn. "The Van Kampens are an extraordinary family
- they give people opportunities and are very open to possibilities."
So he asked if he could embark on a project to recreate the gardens.
When the family agreed, he found a designer in Simon Dorrell, the
art editor of the gardening magazine Hortus and - with its owner
and editor, David Wheeler - the designer of their famous garden
at Bryansground nearby.
Dorrell came up with a grand-scale plan, in keeping with the house.
It had avenues, canals, a maze, a tunnel and a sunken garden, together
with pavilions and belvederes. Waghorn took the entire scheme to
the Van Kampens in the spring of 1996. They simply said "yes"
to the whole project. "They just fell in love with it,"
says Waghorn, "It took us all rather by surprise. We've done
it stage by stage, but it has been a major investment". It
was at this time that the decision was taken to open the gardens
to the public.
Waghorn says that he keeps in touch almost daily with the family
who control all the expenditure tightly. "They allowed the
garden to happen but they're very careful about major expenditure
and how savings can be made". Everyone is coy about the actual
cost. But the restoration of the house is reckoned to have already
eaten up about £6 million and the gardens will probably consume
not much less, especially as a stone-built gatehouse, a hermitage
and a stone tower have been built from scratch.
Waghorn, however, says that costs were kept down by hiring full-time
estate staff, rather than contractors. The policy is to employ as
many local people as possible. This is a source of special satisfaction
to Scott Pierre who tells me: "Everything that has been done
is first class, and we haven't had to go to London or New York."
Jim Howden, the head mason, has been working for four years on
the battlements and roof: "The Van Kampens don't have a carpet-bagging
approach. My team is totally committed. It's unusual to have a team
dedicated to one building but it was done with Worcester and Gloucester
cathedrals." Exactly so.
It was Howden's team which constructed the new tower that Dorrell
designed to be the centre of the maze. He put the tower there as
a cunning way to get people into the adjoining sunken garden. They
are led to the top of the tower with its vista of much of the garden
and down circular stone steps into a basement. The visitor then
stumbles along a dark tunnel into a grotto and thatched hermitage
before coming out into the shady green sunken area.
The hermitage, and all the many wooden structures appearing in
the gardens, were made by the head carpenter, Geoff Williams, and
his team. He arrived at Hampton Court three and a half years ago,
first repairing a medieval cross-passage screen in the house, a
vestige of an earlier building. The team recently set about creating
the two octagonal oak pavilions designed by Dorrell at the heart
of the newly completed walled garden, and is now restoring the first
of three Victorian greenhouses. "When we've finished that,
Ed's keen for us to make a bridge over the River Lugg and restore
the pumphouse."
Williams's group may be small but it's impressive: four masons,
four carpenters, four gardeners, a bricklayer and two all-round
building workers, and, of course, Simon Dorrell with planting advice
from David Wheeler. Then there was Johnny Felton who spent six months
creating and restoring the drystone wall haha around the main garden.
Everything has been made as close as possible to the original -
a blacksmith is employed virtually full time to make iron fittings.
Of the 100 acres which came with the house, about 12 are parkland
outside the haha and eight make up the garden proper - the extensive
remaining acreage is agricultura1 land. The primary source of Dorrell's
inspiration is a garden designed for Hampton by George London in
the l69Os, although Humphry Repton's lake of later date in the park
has been dredged. "London's garden had four miles of avenues.
We intend to plant about two miles."
Dorrell's plans hark back - but in a 21st-century manner. The walled
garden within high brick walls created by the Arkwrights has its
share of canals, but these bubble sensuously, or slide down stone
flagged slopes. The whole is reached through a tunnel of aged wisterias
which drip with flowers in early summer and open on to a deliberately
surprising double herbaceous border, planted with the lushness -
'full blown and romantic', Dorrell calls it - so associated with
Bryansground. The scheme here is of purple and yellow, realised
in veronicas and delphiniums, oregano and achillea.
The plan for the main area of walled garden is extremely complex.
Two formal pavilions, which will be festooned eventually with the
rampant white roses, "Rambling Rector" and "The Garland",
rest in still pools of water with a different view from every side.
The colour scheme is the same throughout - blue, maroon, grey, silver,
white and pink - but achieved differently, maybe with massed lavender
('Little Lady'), or formal silver pear trees. "It is eight
gardens in one," says Dorrell, "I've designed it as a
series of small gardens an interlocking jigsaw."
A new Dutch garden is being built nearby. From a tennis court,
with the 1920s pavilion left intact at the head of a still canal,
rows of box and Irish yews have been planted in a pattern inspired
by the ballroom ceiling in the house. Agapanthus is planted in large
terracotta pots made by a local craftsman, Mark Griffiths.
The Sunken Garden is also near completion. "This is an area
Arkwright would recognise, though when I saw it, it was filled with
saplings and was a rubbish tip," recollects Dorrell. A pond
is fed by a small waterfall which you can walk behind. The beds,
which rise in terraces from the water, have been planted with shade
lovers and, unlike the rest of the garden, this has an air of Victorian
melancholy.
Dorrell believes there are enough ongoing projects to last for
years. As well as restoring more avenues at the front of the house,
which is currently just lawn and specimen trees, the Joseph Paxton
conservatory will be rescued and a vegetable garden planted in a
second walled garden.
Private munificence on such a sale invites the question - why?
A partial answer can be found in Sola Scriptura, the non-profit
making Christian trust founded by Van Kampen to affirm the authority
of the Bible, which owns Hampton Court.
Van Kampen was a Christian fundamentalist, with a famous collection
of biblical manuscripts. He was also known for applying biblical
strictures to the running of his business and there was a strict
code of personal conduct among his many employees: divorce was frowned
on and hard liquor-drinking discouraged. Hampton Court, which is
always referred to by Scott Pierre as "the facility",
is being developed as a temperance conference centre, in line with
the founder's beliefs. When I visited this summer, the house was
full of young Americans - friends of the Sola Scriptura - on retreat.
Scott Pierre, who runs the trust, remarks, "We are a family
with strong Christian roots and after all, Christianity began in
a garden." Unfortunately, Robert Van Kampen died, aged 60,
in October last year, awaiting a heart transplant, a few months
before the Hampton Court project was launched to the public. "I
don't think any of us, including Bob, had any idea of the scope
of the place and what work we had undertaken," Pierre says.
"If we had, we might never have done it. But now we have, we
are delighted and proud of what the team has achieved. My only regret
is that Bob couldn't be here to see it."
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