News Flash: Milton Keynes isn’t that bad.
I recently spent a week there and discovered a metropolitan area that’s well-designed, threaded through with abundant parkland, is served by excellent and mostly pothole-free roads, and has more EV charging points than anywhere else I’ve visited in the UK. I’m not the only one to notice: the town has just made The Sunday Times’ “Best Place to Live” list for the first time ever.
OK, I admit, the town centre is a featureless, soulless collection of modern blocks and vast parking lots. There are few people visible because everything is designed to park and come indoors. It is the most American place I've ever encountered in England and, as such, is very odd.
OK, I admit, the town centre is a featureless, soulless collection of modern blocks and vast parking lots. There are few people visible because everything is designed to park and come indoors. It is the most American place I've ever encountered in England and, as such, is very odd.
That bit, however, is just a few square blocks within a sprawling and salubrious metropolitan area. The housing spreading out from the centre seems to offer something for everyone, from sleek modern apartment blocks to cozy developments that reproduce historic architectural styles. Everything I saw was clearly designed to integrate green space and was threaded through with walking paths.
The best part, from my resolutely old-world, charm-seeking perspective, is that there are gems of historic England threaded into the outskirts if you know where to look. One of my friends, for example, lives less than two miles from the town centre in an early-Victorian worker’s cottage across from fields still bordered by buildings that belonged to an ancient abbey.
The best part, from my resolutely old-world, charm-seeking perspective, is that there are gems of historic England threaded into the outskirts if you know where to look. One of my friends, for example, lives less than two miles from the town centre in an early-Victorian worker’s cottage across from fields still bordered by buildings that belonged to an ancient abbey.
Just a little further out I discovered Great Linford Park (picture above), a collection of historic buildings, gardens, ponds and meadows around a Georgian manor house. The Grand Union Canal stretches along one side, with festively-painted canal boats now used as holiday homes adding to the scene. Everything in and around the park is beautifully maintained, has plenty of parking and sits beside a historic village high street complete with a proper thatched pub called The Nag’s Head. We're only 50 miles north of London but interaction with people seems different than in the southeast. Strangers make eye contact and chat happily.
A little bit further along the canal, sitting beside Wolverton Road, you’ll find The Black Horse. It’s another historic pub, but much larger and solidly in the gastropub category. We had a fabulous dinner here. The weather was dire but it’s easy to imagine how wonderful it would be to sprawl in their canal-side gardens once the sun returns.
Like any part of heritage-packed England, Milton Keynes can lay claim to historic blockbusters on its doorstep.
My first port of call would have been Woburn Abbey, just 20 minutes away. The Palladian pile is the ancestral home of the Dukes of Bedford. It markets itself, along with places like Blenheim Palace and Castle Howard, as one of the Treasure Houses of England and has an art collection that would make many museums weep with envy. A dining room filled with an obscene number of Canalettos is a highlight. And the gardens are smashing, too. At least from what I remember on my last visit, probably 25 years ago. My memories weren’t to be refreshed, however, as the whole place is closed for a multi-year renovation.
England’s greatest landscape garden
My second choice, 25 minutes in the other direction, was Stowe Landscape Gardens. It was not only open, but the ideal place to take one’s canine companion. It’s a pity the weather has been so wet, windy and grey, but the place is spectacular in all circumstances and they provide a handy dog washing area before you return to your car to ensure you won’t be taking their mud home with you.
Stowe took shape across the 18th century and those involved were the design superstars of the age: Charles Bridgeman, Capability Brown, William Kent, etc. Most people are content with one or two garden follies. The Temple family wanted more. Around the house a whole classical world of temples, monuments and grottos appeared. Wandering here is like stumbling through a Poussin landscape, minus the people in togas. There are multiple temples (a play on the family name). A Palladian bridge. Commemorative arches and columns. Stick a few amusement park rides in and you could rebrand the place RomanEmpireWorld. Thankfully, nobody went for that moneymaking scheme so you’re left to wander through an idyllic landscape of peace and quiet.
Well, mostly quiet. The house at the centre of all of this is now a school and the Silverstone racetrack is too close for comfort. Both result in unwelcome noise occasionally cutting through your pastoral idyll.
History and politics nerds will enjoy an extra layer of interest as they wander around Stowe. The Temple family were heavyweights in the Whig party: aristocratic, liberal, enlightenment thinkers who faced off against the Tories for much of the 18th century. American readers, if they dig back into their memories of the Revolution, will remember that the Whigs tended to be pro-American and might have prevented the conflict had they been in charge. Instead it was a Whig prime minister who negotiated the peace treaty to end the war.
In the decades before that cataclysm, the Temples arranged their garden follies to reflect their political beliefs. There’s a path of virtue and a path of vice, with architecture and planting giving you clues as to which you’re on. Unsurprisingly, vice features a lot more confusing twists and turns through deep woodland, where virtue offers up long, gentle views and nicely curated paths. Back then, even the choice of column capital style or decorative scheme said something about your political beliefs. If you’re in any doubt, it’s made clear in the Temple of the British Worthies.
This arcade of portrait busts features obvious people everyone could agree to endorse, like William Shakespeare and Queen Elizabeth I. They sit, however, which people like John Locke … radical philosopher whose writings are credited with sparking both the American and French Revolutions … and John Barnard, who pushed through a law making stock jobbing illegal in the wake of the bursting of the South Sea Bubble. The bubble was basically a Ponzi Scheme that saw its early investors (mostly Tories, and particularly the prime minister at the time) get very rich while many others were ruined. Given that few people today know the ins and outs of Georgian politics, all this stuff can seem quite arcane, but if you take a guided tour all will be revealed. Stowe certainly makes one hunger for a more gracious age when people used gardening rather than social media vitriol to define their beliefs.
A lesser-known Elizabethan jewel
My greatest discovery of this visit was Canons Ashby. The Elizabethan manor house is in the same direction from Milton Keynes as Stowe, but another 20-30 minutes on, and is also a National Trust property. If you didn’t want to linger, you could easily do both in a day. Canons Ashby is one of those
charming spots that, thanks to a combination of family neglect and lack of cash, didn’t get overly “improved” by successive owners. While there were modernising touches throughout the ages they're small, and the overall feel is of a time capsule back to the 17th century or earlier.
The “canon” in the name comes from the officials of the Augustinian priory that was once here. The house you see today is typical of so many that sprung from Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries. Up-and-coming families with lots of cash bought shuttered religious establishments off the government, used the old buildings as a quarry for their new house and built something fresh to proclaim that they’ve arrived. In this case they left part of the old church but turned it into a private chapel a stone's throw from the house. It's now a strangely oversized and beautiful medieval relic on a quiet country lane.
The house feels more medieval than Elizabethan as you enter it through a courtyard and into an old-style great hall. Things get much grander as you move on to a stolid Jacobean staircase and panelled reception rooms. The blockbuster sites are on the next floor, however, when what’s otherwise a relatively modest house yields up a sitting room with a preposterously over-the-top vaulted ceiling dripping with ornate Jacobean plasterwork. This complements a two-story chimney breast festooned with columns, crests and swags, still retaining its Elizabethan paint. The grandeur is so unexpected I gasped out loud when I entered. The guide told me it’s not an unusual reaction.
Beyond that is a bedroom that has original Elizabethan wall paintings. These were discovered by accident, when problems with the roof forced workers to take down the panelling in the room and revealed what had been covered beneath. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
A little bit further along the canal, sitting beside Wolverton Road, you’ll find The Black Horse. It’s another historic pub, but much larger and solidly in the gastropub category. We had a fabulous dinner here. The weather was dire but it’s easy to imagine how wonderful it would be to sprawl in their canal-side gardens once the sun returns.
Like any part of heritage-packed England, Milton Keynes can lay claim to historic blockbusters on its doorstep.
My first port of call would have been Woburn Abbey, just 20 minutes away. The Palladian pile is the ancestral home of the Dukes of Bedford. It markets itself, along with places like Blenheim Palace and Castle Howard, as one of the Treasure Houses of England and has an art collection that would make many museums weep with envy. A dining room filled with an obscene number of Canalettos is a highlight. And the gardens are smashing, too. At least from what I remember on my last visit, probably 25 years ago. My memories weren’t to be refreshed, however, as the whole place is closed for a multi-year renovation.
My second choice, 25 minutes in the other direction, was Stowe Landscape Gardens. It was not only open, but the ideal place to take one’s canine companion. It’s a pity the weather has been so wet, windy and grey, but the place is spectacular in all circumstances and they provide a handy dog washing area before you return to your car to ensure you won’t be taking their mud home with you.
Stowe took shape across the 18th century and those involved were the design superstars of the age: Charles Bridgeman, Capability Brown, William Kent, etc. Most people are content with one or two garden follies. The Temple family wanted more. Around the house a whole classical world of temples, monuments and grottos appeared. Wandering here is like stumbling through a Poussin landscape, minus the people in togas. There are multiple temples (a play on the family name). A Palladian bridge. Commemorative arches and columns. Stick a few amusement park rides in and you could rebrand the place RomanEmpireWorld. Thankfully, nobody went for that moneymaking scheme so you’re left to wander through an idyllic landscape of peace and quiet.
Well, mostly quiet. The house at the centre of all of this is now a school and the Silverstone racetrack is too close for comfort. Both result in unwelcome noise occasionally cutting through your pastoral idyll.
History and politics nerds will enjoy an extra layer of interest as they wander around Stowe. The Temple family were heavyweights in the Whig party: aristocratic, liberal, enlightenment thinkers who faced off against the Tories for much of the 18th century. American readers, if they dig back into their memories of the Revolution, will remember that the Whigs tended to be pro-American and might have prevented the conflict had they been in charge. Instead it was a Whig prime minister who negotiated the peace treaty to end the war.
In the decades before that cataclysm, the Temples arranged their garden follies to reflect their political beliefs. There’s a path of virtue and a path of vice, with architecture and planting giving you clues as to which you’re on. Unsurprisingly, vice features a lot more confusing twists and turns through deep woodland, where virtue offers up long, gentle views and nicely curated paths. Back then, even the choice of column capital style or decorative scheme said something about your political beliefs. If you’re in any doubt, it’s made clear in the Temple of the British Worthies.
This arcade of portrait busts features obvious people everyone could agree to endorse, like William Shakespeare and Queen Elizabeth I. They sit, however, which people like John Locke … radical philosopher whose writings are credited with sparking both the American and French Revolutions … and John Barnard, who pushed through a law making stock jobbing illegal in the wake of the bursting of the South Sea Bubble. The bubble was basically a Ponzi Scheme that saw its early investors (mostly Tories, and particularly the prime minister at the time) get very rich while many others were ruined. Given that few people today know the ins and outs of Georgian politics, all this stuff can seem quite arcane, but if you take a guided tour all will be revealed. Stowe certainly makes one hunger for a more gracious age when people used gardening rather than social media vitriol to define their beliefs.
A lesser-known Elizabethan jewel
My greatest discovery of this visit was Canons Ashby. The Elizabethan manor house is in the same direction from Milton Keynes as Stowe, but another 20-30 minutes on, and is also a National Trust property. If you didn’t want to linger, you could easily do both in a day. Canons Ashby is one of those
The “canon” in the name comes from the officials of the Augustinian priory that was once here. The house you see today is typical of so many that sprung from Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries. Up-and-coming families with lots of cash bought shuttered religious establishments off the government, used the old buildings as a quarry for their new house and built something fresh to proclaim that they’ve arrived. In this case they left part of the old church but turned it into a private chapel a stone's throw from the house. It's now a strangely oversized and beautiful medieval relic on a quiet country lane.
The house feels more medieval than Elizabethan as you enter it through a courtyard and into an old-style great hall. Things get much grander as you move on to a stolid Jacobean staircase and panelled reception rooms. The blockbuster sites are on the next floor, however, when what’s otherwise a relatively modest house yields up a sitting room with a preposterously over-the-top vaulted ceiling dripping with ornate Jacobean plasterwork. This complements a two-story chimney breast festooned with columns, crests and swags, still retaining its Elizabethan paint. The grandeur is so unexpected I gasped out loud when I entered. The guide told me it’s not an unusual reaction.
Beyond that is a bedroom that has original Elizabethan wall paintings. These were discovered by accident, when problems with the roof forced workers to take down the panelling in the room and revealed what had been covered beneath. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
Those two rooms alone are worth popping into the house, but there’s plenty more of interest. That includes a sitting room downstairs with faux marble columns painted by Elizabeth Creed, a Regency-era artist and cousin to the owners. Creed’s paintings behind the altar in the church are worth walking up the lane for, and a surprisingly elegant servants dining hall is another highlight as it's leant dignity by painted panelling moved here in some long-ago renovation.
Outside, the terraced gardens aren’t large but they offer pleasant walks and dogs are allowed throughout. The views are lovely because the house and gardens are on the crest of a hill, so the gardens “borrow” the landscape sweeping away into the distance.
And more to come
And more to come
My list of Milton Keynes-anchored sightseeing would have been longer had we been later in the year and had I done my planning a bit better. Sulgrave Manor, ancestral home to one George Washington, is only open Sundays, Mondays and Tuesdays. Something I discovered on the Wednesday. Boughton House, one of the best examples of the English Baroque, wasn’t yet open for the season. Rockingham Castle is one of a constellation of heritage properties orbiting nearby Northampton and was the setting for the BBC’s adaptation of By the Sword Divided in the 1980s.
That show that kindled my infatuation with the Civil War and Restoration period and, arguably, stoked the passions that eventually led to me moving here. So while others may be dismissive about Milton Keynes, I'm already looking forward to my next visit. I have a lot of territory left to cover, and some excellent pubs to recover from sightseeing within.
1 comment:
true and brilliant overview of MK it has much to offer and lots of history. Look forward to seeing more
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