But the setting is magical. To the front, golden sand stretches down to the Solent with incomparable views of the Isle of Wight. Behind is the picturesque tranquillity of Christchurch harbour and to the west is the wild, Iron-Age beauty of Hengistbury Head.
For lunch we headed back to Mudeford to The Haven House Inn, which clings barnacle-like, to the end of Mudeford Quay.
The Sundowners Terrace is a grandiose name for some decking at the rear of the pub, but there aren't many better spots, when the sun is shining (it can get quite windy in Mudeford) for downing a pint.
Real ale with a local choice between Ringwood Best and Fortyniner from the New Forest. Standard pub fare is supplemented by denizens of the deep, including wonderful Mudeford crab sandwiches.
The Haven's inside, for those windy days, is whitewashed with smart black woodwork. Small but cosy with twin brick fireplaces, one at either end. In between is a snug cubicle with high-backed pews. Flagstones compete with hectic carpet, but the carpet wins; children and wetsuits are barred.
In 1874 in the Battle of Mudeford, smugglers holed up in the Haven House, exchanged musket-fire with the king's excise men, resulting in George Coombes being hanged from a gibbet outside the pub. These days, the quay is frequented by crabbers and twitchers, and hanging around the Haven is a little more civilised.
After lunch we walked along the seafront to Highcliffe Castle. Beautiful grounds and Castle. Only a couple of rooms to look at unless you pay for the guided tour. Also the very British home of Mr. Selfridge. It was thought to be a fear of Zeppelin raids that drove Selfridge to move out of London during the First World War and rent Highcliffe Castle for £5,000 a year fully furnished.
Mr. Selfridge lost his wife to the influenza epidemic of 1918. Despite being widowed, Selfridge continued to live lavishly. Selfridge could stand at the bottom of the Highcliffe grounds and see the ancient headland so in 1919, he bought 700 acres of Hengistbury Head from Sir George Meyrick and planned to build a castle there.
Much to the alarm of the locals, he announced he would be building "the largest castle in the world". The basic plan involved four miles of ramparts with towers. A large castle with Gothic hall, a 300ft tower, a theatre, a hall of mirrors copied from that at Versailles, a winter garden, a covered lake, long corridors and galleries for pictures, tapestries and other objet d'art, and at least 250 suites of rooms for guests.
However, in the decade after his wife died he reputedly ran through an $8m fortune and, combined with the financial impact of the Wall Street Crash in 1929, his wealth could no longer support his lifestyle. So, in 1930, he sold 300 acres of Hengistbury Head to the local council, including covenants still in force today that ironically stipulated that the land could not be built on.
Fortunately, we get the best deal; he didn't get to create an oversized ego-driven building on a beautiful section of coastline and we can still enjoy it as nature intended. Such a relief he frittered his money away.
The simple grave of Harry Gordon Selfridge at St. Mark's Churchyard, just across the road from Highcliffe Castle, contains no clues about the lavish lifestyle the man who revoluntionised shopping once led. It is an unassuming legacy for so important a man.
We had some time to spare before catching the bus home so decided to try and find his grave. The grave lies at the base of an ivy hedgerow, inscribed with only the few simple words 'In loving memory Harry Gordon Selfridge 1857 - 1947'. Selfridge is laid to rest, separated by two unmarked graves, next to his wife Rosalie 'Rose' Buckingham.
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