Visiting Blenheim Palace in the autumn is a bit like taking a five course meal,
at a leisurely pace of course, with each course providing a further tasty morsel
of satisfaction. We were on our way to Liverpool for a family funeral, stopped
in an Oxford services for a break, then wondered if there was somewhere we could
visit for an hour or two? Why not Blenheim which sits on the main road north of
Oxford into Woodstock, a little town which tells you we are in honey coloured
Cotswolds country. Woodstock is a bit like the town belonging to that large
estate over there i.e. Blenheim. Not just a few labourers cottages, but a whole
shop, hotel and full services stocked town to complement His Grace's estate. It
is jolly nice of the 12th Duke of Marlborough to invite us to share the delights
of his adjoining wonderful estate, built in the 18th century to celebrate
beating the French in the War of the Spanish Succession. It was especially built
as a gift to the 1st Duke of Marlborough, John Churchill, who led the allied
forces at the battle of Blenheim, 13th August 1704.
Blenheim of course is the birthplace of Winston Churchill, the ultimate British
bulldog, and is suitably grand for such an event. Churchill is buried just down
the road in the village of Bladon. If you wanted somewhere for such a leader to
be born you couldn't top Blenheim, one of the largest and grandest houses in
England. Approaching from the south you turn left into the palace grounds just
before entering the centre of Woodstock, and are then faced with a long straight
road through open parkland that arrows right up to the palace itself, sitting
pretty and unobscured by vegetation in between. Entrance fees paid at the little
kiosk just inside the gates are on the high side and we paid a tidy £13 each
just for the park and gardens (I have been inside the house before). You park up
on the right hand side of the road and walk to the monster of a building in
front of you and admire its sheer hugeness and stateliness, throwing out its
vast wings from the English baroque central core like a military commander
flourishIng his cape. That's the first course.
Then you can dip down over the bridge upon the Great Lake to aim for that
impressive looking obelisk in the far distance on the endless grass incline,
standing in solitary splendour to tear the eye away from just admiring the
palace itself. Why not dilly dally on the bridge and admire the landscaped
perfection created by Lancelot 'Capability' Brown. Here the bridge divides two
sections of lake which balloon out on either side as if pinched in the middle by
a giant hand. To one side the lake separates us from the town of Woodstock whose
townscape can be seen straddling the horizon. On the other the lake curves round
into wooded charm and gentle hillock, the scene that would have faced Winston as
he proposed to his beloved all those years ago barely a stone's throw and some
more from the mansion.
It's a hearty walk to this Column of Victory, the second course, built to
remember the legacy of the 1st Duke of Marlborough, set in a sloping green sea
with uninterrupted views down to the lake and on to the house, at the entrance
of what is known as the Grand Avenue. On all four sides at the base of the
obelisk are written various and multitudinous words evoking something of the
history of these splendid isles. Fully 40m high, the obelisk is a great photo
opportunity and scenic viewpoint for this magnificent park. The weather was on
our side, as a crisp autumn day meant blue sky, plentiful lashings of cloud, a
chop suey of seasonal colours and some welcome setting sun lighting up the stone
facades of both the obelisk and the palace.
We wend our way back to the palace, admiring the wide open vistas of this blob
of bucolic beauty, a mix of ever so gently rolling green carpet, man made water
features and surrounding woodland, another jigsaw piece in the garden that is
England. The way to the formal gardens seems to inexplicably finish in a dead
end, so we retrace our steps and wander around the skirts of the palace itself
looking for a way through until a helpful staffer points us in the right
direction. The third course however has waylaid us, it's the East Courtyard shop
which can happily occupy anyone for an hour or so with its attractive array of
items for sale. It's big, and expensive looking, like a National Trust shop par
excellence. I'd feel much more comfortable entering if I had green wellies, a
tweed cap and a Barbour jacket, perhaps with a gun under my arm after a bit of
grouse shooting. And of course leaving a truly massive 4 X 4 outside. I usually
go for the books in these sorts of shops, but there's plenty for everyone, food,
clothes, memorabilia, the lot. A very pleasant way of wasting a bit of time!
The fourth course for us was wandering through the courtyard of the big house,
which you can do without a house ticket (there's a ticket office here where I
think you can convert your ticket to a yearly one, you couldn't resist if a
local), then mosey on down to the formal gardens before dusk, then take a little
lakeside stroll in Winston Churchill territory. Here you can admire alternative
aspects of the great house, see the Churchill Memorial Garden, and the Temple of
Diana where the great man proposed to his future wife, Clementine Hosier on the
11th August 1908.
The last course is a trip to the Oxfordshire Pantry tea room adjacent to the
shop where you can have the typical English cream tea experience, and where
better to have it than here. Wallow in carrot cake, coffee cake or whatever is
on offer. By the time you return to your car you will feel suitably full of
stately home fatness. Try and remember where you put your car however, as in the
dark it might take a minute or two to find it amongst all the other vehicles!
