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| The Mansion House |
Built
in the mid 1850’s, and originally known as the Devon County Lunatic Asylum,
Devington Park as it’s now called was designed by architect Charles Fowler,
responsible for many other sites around Britain including Covent Garden.
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| The Church come private school |
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| Gates to The Avenue |
The hospital was self-contained,
with its own farm to grow crops, raise pigs and cattle, and its own water
supply from a nearby well. The long driveway leading up to it, now known as The
Avenue, opens at the bottom with two huge wrought iron gates (the kind you see
in creepy films about orphanages) which are flanked by two gate-keepers
cottages, responsible for security and keeping the keys, and are now
residential dwellings. The hospital had its own chapel on The Avenue, now a
private school, where little children enjoy playtimes frolicking amongst
Douglas Firs wearing blazers and ties and funny little hats. To the side of the
main site is a building now known as Exminster house, which was a residence
hall for nurses of the hospital, that have recently been converted to apartments.
During both world wars, the hospital
housed wounded soldiers and those suffering from shell shock, particularly
during the evacuation of Dunkirk. The site was bombed during World War II, killing
and injuring patients and staff and destroying five wards.
The hospital was not only a place
for the mentally ill, but also the elderly, a refuge for women escaping
domestic violence, and a home for young women who’d become pregnant ‘out of
wedlock’.
There was a ballroom for ‘residents’,
in an effort to provide therapeutic activities away from the rest of society.
This is now called ‘The Orangery’. It sits within a semi-circular tiered
section in the centre of the site, which resembles something you’d find
surrounding an Italian piazza, now named ‘The Cloisters’. Also within this
space is an octagonal building where the kitchens once were, now a private
dwelling called ‘The Priory’. The imposing main house just inside the gates
that we know as ‘The Mansion’ was once the administrational centre for the
site. Built to provide patients with a therapeutic environment, where social
care was considered just as important as more conventional treatments, the
hospital enjoyed far reaching views of the Devonshire Countryside.
The Devon County Lunatic Asylum
originally held capacity for 800 beds, but by the 1970’s this had risen to
around 1700, due to all the extension over the years. It was eventually closed
in the mid 1980’s and left empty, becoming derelict.
In the 1990’s, Devington Homes Ltd
acquired the 11 acre site and construction began to restore the buildings and
re-develop them into apartments and townhouses. During construction cellars
were uncovered with rings bolted to the walls, and we can only imagine the
suffering that took place in these spaces.
The Sebastian Faulks novel ‘Human Traces’ tells of the grim reality of
life in institutions such as this one at the time.
The whole building is now Grade II
listed with English Heritage, and contains 118 apartments.
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| The Gazebo by the Pond |
In more
recent history, on Friday 21st April 2017, a family with mixed roots that went
by the name of Grubs turned up in a Zafira packed to its roof with a metal
framed bunk bed and quite a lot of luggage, and moved into a small apartment on
one of the Walks. Although it wasn’t a patch on Apple Tree Cottage, they were
delighted with the fresh carpets and newly painted walls, as they’d looked
round some god forsaken places up in the previous weeks. They held the
impression that it was spacious too, that is until their boxes arrived from
across the miles two weeks later, and it appeared that their bedroom furniture
had doubled in size in transit.
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| Noah at 'The Wooden Park' |
They employed the help of some
unsuspecting relatives to help with the move, namely to offer some basic pre-loved
essentials like plates and cups and a cutlery set, along with a saucepan stand (which
came in very handy when it was discovered that most of the ‘cupboard space’ in
the kitchen was actually housing a boiler and other contraptions), some dusting
cloths, towels and an unwanted George Foreman grill, as well as a good old
boiler for making some tea in the kettle-less, windowless, hardly-any-cupboard
space cave of a kitchen. And that boiler would have been even handier, had the
kitchen come stocked with some tea bags and milk, which it didn’t. Luckily, in
the village, there was a little store (for romantical purposes we’ll pretend it
was not a Tesco Express), and that
saved the day as far as revitalising cuppas and ham and cheese sandwiches went.
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| The Squatter's Quarters |
Unfortunately there was nowhere to
sit, except for a fold out picnic table with benches, which for one of the
unsuspecting relatives proved far too unstable for a man of his size, but
thankfully the family had been to the camping store the day before (because the
husband is well into that type of stuff) and stocked up on reclining camping
chairs and a thing that inflates to the shape of a banana when you swish the
open end of it through the air and quickly shut it in with velcro. You can lie
in it, much like a hammock, a bright green one at that, and the husband has
enjoyed this invention very much in the front garden on some lovely sunny days.
| The infamous bed and mattress |
The said unsuspecting relative was
then tricked into assembling the much mentioned metal framed bunk bed, and the
once stinky mattress which now had a vague scent of fabric conditioner (sea
breeze with a hint of musty-funk?) was finally put to its intended use.
At the end of the day, the family
thanked the unsuspecting relatives, because without them they’d have nothing to
put their dinner on, or dry up the plates with, and waved them goodbye until
next time.
Seriously
now! It’s been a great place for a new start. The village (which is probably
now more commonly known as a ‘housing estate’ due its growth in recent years) has
some great amenities, especially for families. A skate park, a MUGA (multi use
games arena - took me a while to figure that one out), tennis courts, garden
allotments, three playgrounds (two with zip-lines), loads of green space, a
doctors, a dentists, a pharmacy, a hairdresser/beautician, a post office, a
cute village hall (pilates-for-the-ladies on Tuesdays and ‘fat club’ on Fridays
- not my words), a community cafe, a nice little deli selling organic homemade
treats (and milk and eggs from the farm if you feel like boycotting the Tesco
Express), a football club, a community centre with many and varied activities
including a gym and another cafe, a 14th century parish church from which we
often hear bells, and frequent buses to the city centre.
A & N enjoy the acres of gardens
to play in. Across the drive from our place is a pond full of fish and a gazebo
to sit under. We’ve enjoyed many of these long spring/summer evenings playing
badminton on the grassed area to the side of our place. I’ve done yoga out
front, committing to it before considering the view I would be offering to
passengers minding their own business on the top deck of the double decker that
goes by every half hour.
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| Rabbits on the old bowling green, with football club in the distance |
There’s a ‘secret passage’ through a
small bit of woodland, great for squirrel watching, David Attenborough style.
The Cloisters and Orangery and Priory can be accessed via a small flight of
stairs and a door and the kids call it ‘The Secret World’ which is cool. The
bus stop is right outside. Across the road is a flat rectangular, hedged and gated
patch of grass which I’m told once served as a bowling green for residents of
the hospital, and is now home to loads of bouncing rabbits. The Avenue is lined
with big Sycamores and grey squirrels dart to and fro. So needless to say, it’s
quite nice!
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| Devington Park behind |
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| View from the MUGA |
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| Skate park and MUGA |
Maciek
is now coach of the Exminster St Martin’s under 9’s football team. He was
casually enquiring at the club in the days after moving about a team for Noah
to join, and found out there was a team for every other age group but that one,
for lack of a willing Dad to manage it, and would he be interested in doing so?
And he was. So he is. The coach. Of a team of 12 boys, along with two assistant
Dads who tagged themselves in once the word got around. He was famous within a week.
The Polish Australian no-coaching-qualification-or experience soccer ... oops,
I mean football Dad/coach person! A
bit reminiscent of the ‘lederhosen’ gig at Kaiserfels Hotel in Austria (see
previous blog!) He’s held two sessions already, the kids and parents love it so
far. There aren’t enough balls to go around, but at least he’s even been given
a whistle. And voila, a ready-made team for Noah!
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| A spot of badminton anyone? |
Yes,
it’s a good place to start for this crazy family!
Apart
from school, but that’s another story altogether ...
