5 minute read

King of the Castle

In the countryside of Kent, Doug O'Neill gets a royal wake-up call when he discovers the perfect place to sleep with history

“My my, you certainly sleep around when you’re in jolly old England, I must say.” My cousin Theresa has long had a gift for distilling the loftiest of my travel experiences into something tawdry. Bursting my fancy notions of myself has been her hobby since that day when I was 12 and announced to her that I was adopted and belonged to an aristocratic British family, obviously one with royal connections, and I would one day rejoin them in the posh digs to which I’d become accustomed. Though I wasn’t actually adopted, I did, later in life, find myself spending time in some of England’s best beds.

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Once in Bath, the city famous for its Georgian architecture and Roman baths, I slept in what had been the drawing room of English novelist Jane Austen when she lived there in the early 1800s. On a visit to London’s famous Dorchester Hotel, I padded barefoot over the marble-floored bathroom in The Harlequin Suite, where Elizabeth Taylor had slept on numerous occasions. And I once emptied my pockets to spend the night at the The Royal Albion Hotel in Broadstairs, Kent, simply because that’s where Charles Dickens used to bed down when in the seaside resort town.

I once lucked out with a booking at Hartwell House in Buckinghamshire. Not only had it served as the residence of the exiled French King Louis XVIII, but later guests included both the Queen Mum and Kylie Minogue. And while I didn’t spend the night at Highclere Castle, the setting for the hugely popular Downton Abbey series, I did take afternoon tea at the famous country house two years ago. Is it possible that I sat on a chair where Dame Maggie Smith had enjoyed her coffee break?

Experiencing the lives of the rich and famous—even a taste of it—adds fanciful touch to any holiday. That’s what I banked on during my most recent visit to the county of Kent, in southeastern England, where I settled in for a stay in Hever Castle, one of the many palatial homes in one of the oldest home counties on the border of Greater London. The county is also widely known as the “Garden of England,” covered in fertile farmland and where almost every country estate boasts its own orchard. I was drawn to Kent for the grand homes and lodges, of which Hever Castle is just one. The doublemoated edifice should hold significance for anyone who’s studied the history of the monarchy or watched the racy Tudors miniseries, where sultry Jonathan Rhys Meyers plays King Henry VIII, best remembered for having had six wives, two of whom he beheaded.

Hever Castle is the 13th-century double-moated edifice where Henry’s second queen, the ill-fated Anne Boleyn, mother of Elizabeth I, spent her childhood. Henry stayed at Hever Castle during his courtship of Anne (while still married to wife number one). The castle, renovated in the early 1900s by the deep-pocketed American tycoon William Waldorf Astor, now makes its 28 luxury bedrooms available to overnight guests. The opulent rooms, located in the Astor and Anne Boleyn Wings, are attached to the castle proper and reachable through a private gated entrance. I felt I’d entered an inner circle from the moment of my arrival, when I was welcomed by a costumed Queen Anne.

I reached my bedroom, the Tulip Room, by navigating a dimly lit corridor under the watchful eyes of historic figures looking down from unsmiling portraits. My room was everything I’d hope for: palatial. The wood-panelled walls were decked in tapestries and carvings, and a set of leaded windows looked out onto Italianate gardens. At my disposal were an antique writing desk, a separate reading nook and a chaise lounge should I wish to move about the room. The pièce de résistance? A huge Romanesque bed with four ornate pillars and a cathedral-like headboard that reached for the ceiling.

My second-favourite room in the castle lodgings was the oak-panelled Drawing Room, which in the Tudor period had been the domestic offices of the housekeeping staff. That’s where I nursed my evening whiskey and chatted with other guests under the Boleyn coat of arms. The posh vibe continued in the morning as I sat down to what I assumed was your aristocrat’s standard breakfast: grilled kippers and Scottish smoked salmon. But it was during Afternoon Tea that I really craved Facetime with my cousin to show her I’d truly arrived: There I sat in the Anne Boleyn Wing, noshing on Kentish ham and local pear chutney sandwiches while gazing out the window into the orchard attended to by aproned staff.

The maze at Leeds Castle, also in Kent, has confounded many a visitor.

The maze at Leeds Castle, also in Kent, has confounded many a visitor.

I was again tempted to Skype my cousin in the afternoon when I strolled rather lazily through the manicured grounds, which included a rose garden of 4,000 bushes, a giant topiary chess set, grottoes, fountains, a yew maze and ornate waterfalls.

I found lots to occupy myself beyond the boundaries of 50-hectare property of Hever Castle. I wondered if Anne, as a young genteel woman, was permitted such freedom in her youth. I took a day trip to the White Cliffs of Dover and I toured beach towns, sampled organic foods sold at various country estates, and took in some of the best gardens in England. It’s a landscape that’s hosted so much of English history: More than 1,400 years of it at Canterbury Cathedral and a key period at Chartwell, the stately home where Sir Winston Churchill lived from 1924 until his death in 1965. Coastal towns like Whitstable retain their traditional vibe with harbourfront fish markets and colourful cottages. And of course, there are cultural spots like Margate, made famous by the great Romantic painter JMW Turner.

My second-last morning in Hever Castle found me at breakfast with my electronic book reader in hand. I’d just dipped my toasted toy soldier into perfectly oozing egg when snippets from Katherine Longhi’s book, Hever Castle and Anne Boleyn: Castles and Countesses, reminded me of the castle’s dark past and King Henry’s many wrongdoings. Not only did Henry have Anne Boleyn beheaded on trumped-up charges of infidelity, but at his behest the ownership of his decapitated wife’s family home was transferred to the crown. I wasn’t feeling the love for Henry and began to rethink my dinner reservations for my final night in Kent—at the King Henry VIII gastro pub, a 10-minute walk away. But the pub had won a prize for its food, so off I went, once more with my e-reader in hand.

Turns out the kitchen staff at the King Henry VIII Pub know what they were doing and so they should: there’s been a pub on this very spot since 1597. The food was delicious. Some time between tucking into my entrée of crab and king prawn linguine and dessert that snippets from Longhi’s book made my world right again. King Henry’s fourth wife, Anne of Cleaves, not only escaped the executioner’s axe after the end of her marriage to Henry, she also outlived him by 10 years. But it gets better: in return for agreeing to have her marriage to Henry annulled, Anne of Cleaves negotiated eventual ownership of Hever Castle and several other properties to keep her in a style befitting a lady. In the spoils of marital war with capricious King Henry, was it possible the lady came out on top?

With that, I finished off my dessert and enjoyed a leisurely stroll back to my lavish room and slept like a lamb… in a bed I’m sure Cleaves would have appreciated. hevercastle.co.uk