Summary (by AI): Rodmarton Manor; Gloucestershire; Biddulph family home; Arts and Crafts movement; Hand-crafted construction; Limited opening times; Intricate hand-carved woodwork; Wild "garden rooms"; Lived-in atmosphere; Dovetail butterfly keys;
Blog: I don't really have a highly structured planning or research process when it comes to finding new places to visit. Usually, it's one of two things: either I realise I’m going somewhere in a week or two and do a sudden deep dive into that specific area, or I’m just sitting watching TV, decide to pick up my laptop, and start searching around a random topic until I stumble across something interesting.

For weeks, I had "Rodmarton Manor" written in my diary as a recurring entry every Wednesday and Saturday. I couldn't for the life of me remember why I’d put it there, or why it only ever popped up on those specific days. I hadn't bothered to look it up; I just kept looking at my calendar and thinking, Why did I write that?
Then, while doing some research on architecture in Gloucestershire ahead of a trip there, Rodmarton Manor popped up in the search results. I had an instant "Aha!" moment. That was it.
I turned up on a picture-perfect mid-June day. It turns out Rodmarton Manor is the family home of the Biddulph family. They built the house between 1909 and 1929, right in the heyday of the Arts and Crafts movement, of which they were massive proponents.

Now, not fully understanding what "Arts and Crafts" actually meant in an architectural sense, I did a bit of reading. It turns out the movement was essentially a rallying cry against the rapid industrialisation and modernisation of England after the Industrial Revolution. Proponents felt that community and soul were being eroded by mass production. Arts and Crafts was a return to individual, hand-crafted items built with love, care, and traditional values.
When the Biddulphs built Rodmarton Manor, they took this philosophy to the absolute extreme. Even back then, they refused to use mechanical devices or modern machinery. Every single stone and all the huge, heavy timbers were worked and raised entirely by hand. The same went for all the gorgeous furniture and fittings inside. The woodwork and the level of detailing in the place are honestly incredible.
Because of its limited opening times—which finally explained my mysterious diary entries—I had booked a slot for a Saturday afternoon. I’d expected it to be absolutely rammed, but wonderfully, it was incredibly quiet. I ended up having the place pretty much to myself for a large part of the visit, which was fantastic.

You weren't technically supposed to take photos inside, but because there were so few people around, I managed to sneak a few in (as you’ll see in the post). And what a place it is. You can see from the outside how stunning it looks, but the inside is an absolute masterclass in Arts and Crafts design. To me, it felt beautifully austere yet gorgeous. It wasn’t flashy or over-ornate in the slightest.
There are these lovely, massive oak beams on the floors and walls, where you can see all the intricate, hand-carved details. One of the researchers there made a great point: if you use a sawmill, it cuts straight through the timber in a cold, rigid line. But if you hand-carve wood, the tool naturally bends and sways with the lie of the grain. It leaves you with these incredibly beautiful, wavy, natural features. It’s amazing.
After touring the house, I took a stroll around the gardens, which were equally inspiring. They aren't manicured to within an inch of their life. Instead, the space is laid out as a series of "garden rooms" with lots of wild planting left to go to seed.
It actually gave me a lot of food for thought for my own garden. We’re lucky enough to have a pretty large lawn, and I’ve already let a small section of it grow wild. But seeing Rodmarton has made me want to be much bolder next year. I’m thinking of letting a massive portion of it go natural so we can have these lovely, shifting pockets of native grasses and self-seeding wildflowers.
The house itself isn't massive. I was probably only there for about half an hour because the public route only covers three or four rooms downstairs and another three or four upstairs, but the attic was spectacular. It’s hard to describe, but the outer shell of the V-shaped roof was slightly offset from the massive structural diagonal beams supporting it. It created this amazing, cavernous space which housed these beautifully simple, austere attic bedrooms. You could easily imagine spending hours up there.
What’s lovely is that the Biddulph family still lives there, occupying one of the wings. Because the house is only open two days a week, you get a real sense that it is very much a lived-in home. It’s full of their personal books and family photos, and they clearly still use the main rooms for family gatherings and Christmas. In fact, the fireplace in the main hall had a pile of fresh ash in it, looking like it had hosted a roaring fire only the night before.

I can’t recommend a visit to Rodmarton Manor enough. It’s really stayed with me, and it's got me thinking a lot about the Arts and Crafts ethos and making things by hand.
While I was there, I couldn't stop looking at their dining room table. It was made from three or four massive oak planks. It was beautiful, with an incredible, deep patina, and held together entirely without glue or nails. Instead, they used those traditional, diamond-shaped dovetail butterfly keys to lock the planks together.
I’ll put some photos of it up on the blog. I'm already planning to spend some time on YouTube later to figure out how it's done. I've got a lovely oak dining table at home, but at 90cm wide, it’s just a bit too narrow for what I want. I’m seriously wondering if I can craft something similar myself to widen it out to a proper six-foot table.
Watch this space!
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