83: Ickworth Hall
The Rotunda at Ickworth.
Aristocratic excess and architectural boldness combine in the Suffolk countryside.
The Hervey family (pronounced ‘Harvey’) were many things. Eccentric, brave, profligate, scandalous – but never dull. Ickworth Hall, near Bury St Edmunds, illustrates this. The rotunda pictured here, with all its artistic treasures, was only part of the house and never actually lived in. It was all for show – and this extravagance was typical of the Herveys.
A long established clan?
The first recorded owners were the monks of nearby St Edmundsbury. The Domesday survey of 1086 established the powerful abbey as the lords of the manor of Ickworth. Later a family, probably Norman, took over, adopting the name de Ickworth. Sir Thomas of that name was first to establish a deer park, and may have been the founder of the manor’s first church, near the current building. Following a familiar series of marriage and land wrangles, including a bid by the abbey to reclaim the land, the manor and estate came to one Thomas Hervey.
And the name stuck
The Herveys made their first real mark when younger sons carved out a career at court under the Tudors during the 16th century. Sir Nicholas cut a fine figure in 1520 at Henry VIII’s fashion parade at the Field of the Cloth of Gold – when the rival courts of France and England strutted their stuff. He later became ambassador to the court of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, when he tried to secure Henry’s divorce from Catherine of Aragon. He was not the last Hervey to put on the style. Francis Hervey (1534-1602) was a boon companion of Elizabeth I’s favourite the Earl of Essex, sitting in five parliaments. Loyal to the crown, the Herveys bucked the East Anglian trend by backing Charles I during the Civil Wars of the 1640s.
All very well living it up at court. What about Ickworth?
By prudent diplomacy the family avoided losing the estate despite Parliament’s victory in 1649 – but their adherence to the monarch paid dividends after the Restoration. John Hervey was another parliamentarian, but his attempts to boost the family fortunes by marrying well went awry when he wed his cousin Elizabeth. Not for the last time a series of family squabbles following John’s death, when his widow moved overseas, meant the Ickworth estate was neglected. By the time the 1st Earl of Bristol, another John Hervey, finally got his hands on the estate in 1700 Ickworth Hall – a fortified manor house east of the church occupied since the 13th century – was in ruins.
Time for rebuilding
The family fortunes always fluctuated; generations addicted to gambling and excess meant a succession of boom and bust. When times were good they were very good, and cash was lavished on the estate; when they were bad they were very bad, and the money ran out. Plans for the new house went on hold from 1702 and it was not finished until 1828. Meanwhile the family lived in a converted farmhouse. The first earl’s son (yes, another John) was a notorious libertine, famed for his ambivalent sexuality. Lady Mary Wortley said there were three types of human; men, women and Herveys. He died young. While the second earl hired Capability Brown to work on the Ickworth grounds, it was his sailor brother Augustus, vice-admiral of the Blue, who grabbed the limelight. Wartime adventures at sea in the 1770s and 1780s and amorous adventures on land ensured this third earl spent little time in Suffolk, but added richly to the family legend.
Was no-one going to rebuild this house?
Step forward the eccentric Frederick, earl-bishop of Cloyne and Derry. It will be no surprise he was no enthusiastic clergyman, but fond of travel, Irish nationalism and horse racing. It was he who laid the foundations for the new Ickworth. “The House – the House – the House” he wrote from his sick bed in Naples in 1796. It was the earl-bishop who laid the plans for the distinctive rotunda and curving wings we see today. Although condemned by his wife as “a stupendous monument of folly” Ickworth was meant to showcase his love of art, nurtured during long spells living in Italy. Sadly, his great collection of Raphaels and Titians was confiscated when Napoleon’s army took Rome in 1798, but his descendants more than made amends. The earl-bishop had fallen out with his son Frederick William before his death in 1803, cutting him short of funds in his will, so work on the rotunda stopped abruptly. It was not until 1821 that funds became available, whereupon Frederick (now the 1st Marquess) went to Europe to replace his father’s stolen treasures.
Progress at last
More financial setbacks meant it took another 20 years to complete the rotunda. Magnificent and lined with artistic beauty, it was finished in 1841 – and never lived in. Instead it was for guests to enjoy while the family lived in the east wing. On the bright side this meant the house was kept in the good condition we see today. For many visitors today the main draw is the art. Some wonderful Gainsborough portraits are on show; the rakish 3rd Earl (the nautical chap) is among the best, while Angelica Kauffman’s 1786 portrait of Lady Elizabeth Foster, daughter of the earl-bishop, catches the eye. She was involved in a notorious menage a trois with the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, and later married him. Look out for Benjamin West’s The Death of Wolfe (you’ll recognise it from history book reproductions – it’s better close up). There is also a Hogarth original, The Hervey Conversation Piece, featuring leading Whig politicians of the day.
And the modern day?
Twentieth century Herveys continued the eccentric tradition, a recent family member doing jail time for drugs offences. The house passed to the National Trust in 1956.
