Hatfield Forest

When I finally come to write my magnum opus The History of National Trust Scones 1895-Present, I will define in some detail the seismic change - some would call it a revolution - that occurred during the years 2020-2022.

In the pre-COVID era, a National Trust scone that was not served on an actual ceramic plate caused emotional shockwaves. I well remember being served a cream tea on a paper plate in the cafeteria at Greenway and the absolute confusion that ensued. I don't think my MP actually ever raised it at Prime Minister's Questions but she should have done - that's how controversial it was. 

But by 2020, when I finally made it to Stackpole for a scone after months of lockdown, I could have sent the takeaway box that it came in off to the Vatican and asked them to canonise it. If the cafe staff had handed that scone to me balanced on an old copy of Hello magazine, I'd probably have eaten it. 

In short: COVID made takeaway scones acceptable.

Why am I telling you this? Well, if I had gone to Hatfield Forest in Essex in 2018, I would never have expected to find any scones. There's no cafeteria at Hatfield - just a serving counter. I would have been completely prepared to settle for a more traditionally portable baked item.

But then last week, someone sent me a photo of a scone being eaten at Hatfield Forest and I let my guard down. I recruited my niece Fay (the Craig Revel-Horwood of scones, as we saw at Lamb House and Croft Castle) and off we went.

I'll cut to the chase, readers: there were no scones. I couldn't see any when we arrived at the cafe/counter and so I asked if they were available. "We haven't got any yet," said the woman, at which point my heart leapt and I asked her when she expected them, quickly calculating how long I'd be willing to wait (2 hours probably my limit). "Tomorrow," she replied and so we settled for some rhubarb flapjack.

Ceci n'est pas une scone

Bravely soldiering on with flapjack

We then wandered off for a look around Hatfield Forest. A bit of history for you:

• Hatfield Forest is the best surviving example of a royal hunting forest
• It was named as such by Henry I around 1100
• Henry introduced fallow deer to the forest from Europe
• If you were caught poaching the royal deer, one of the punishments was to be sewn into a deerskin and hunted by dogs, which would probably put you off trying it
• The forest was owned by Robert the Bruce from 1304-6 but Edward I wanted to be King of Scotland so he confiscated it
• Hatfield Forest then passed through many aristocratic hands until it was given to Sir Richard Rich by Edward VI 
• If you are a fan of Wolf Hall, you will recognise the name Richard Rich. He worked with Thomas Cromwell on the Dissolution of the Monasteries as well as on the Act of Supremacy, recognising Henry VIII as the Head of the Church in England
• It was then purchased by Jacob Houblon before ending up with a timber merchant - luckily a passionate conservationist called Sir Edward North Buxton stepped in and bought it before giving it to the National Trust
• Across the 900 acres today, around 3,500 species of living things can be found

But here's an interesting fact: the last time I went to a National Trust property where I expected to find a scone but failed to do so was in February 2017 (Chedworth Roman Villa)! In 5 years of scone missions, I have always found a scone when the tea room was open. That is really impressive by the National Trust. Admittedly, I recently had a couple of tea room closures in Cornwall but that's a different challenge.

Anyway! The National Trust recently opened another property called Crook Hall Gardens in Durham so I've had to add one to my list - I now have just 13 properties left to go! Onwards to scone glory!

Hatfield Forest: 4 out of 5

Scones: 0 out of 5 - there weren't any

Realisation that out of 66 National Trust scone missions between 2017 and 2022, I always got a scone when I expected one: 5 out of 5

Other National Trust properties I have visited in Essex: Paycockes

Paycocke's

I had a Saturday job when I was 16, in a sadly now defunct childrenswear shop. One day the manager of the shop stuck a piece of paper on the kitchen noticeboard showing our target for the year and the wondrous fame and fortune that awaited us if we beat the target and won Store of the Year.

I got quite excited about it until the other women in the shop put me straight; "Forget it. We won't win Regional Store of the Year - that'll go to Market Harborough because they've just opened and new shops always beat their targets. And National Store of the Year is always Oxford Street." And with that they went back to eating their crispbread, I returned to my More magazine, and we said no more about it.

I wonder if National Trust property managers ever feel aggrieved like this. Take Paycocke's, for example; do they ever read about Waddesdon Manor adding a new car park and a fleet of shuttle buses for visitors, or Chartwell opening a new purpose-built cafeteria, and think "WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A STREET IN A VILLAGE IN ESSEX. IT'S A MIRACLE WE'RE STILL HERE AT ALL. WE HAVE NO ROOM FOR CAR PARKS OR EXTENSIVE VISITOR CENTRES."

To be honest, they've probably got better things to do than worry about Chartwell. Paycocke's may be smaller than most properties but it's a fantastic place and I highly recommend it. 

It was built around 1500 and is located on a relatively busy road in a village called Coggeshall. Yet somehow it has survived 500 years of change and development and is still standing sturdy. 

It was built for Thomas Paycocke, a wealthy merchant who made his fortune from wool - East Anglia was very big on cloth back then. 

The house was passed to the Buxton family through marriage. As the cloth trade began to fall into decline in the 1700s, the house was bought and then split into three tenements. It came close to demolition, until Lord Noel Buxton brought it back into the family. He renovated it and donated it to the National Trust in 1924.

There was a sign on the wall with a poignant quote from Lord Noel:

Paycocke's also gave me a rare moment of historical supremacy over the Scone Sidekick. We wandered into one of the rooms in the house and I immediately turned to him and said; "This is linenfold panelling. It was used in houses owned by rich people. They also have it in Sutton House in Hackney." For some reason the Sidekick decided that he still needed to consult the notice on the fireplace and begrudgingly read out "It's linenfold panelling as also seen in Sutton House in Hackney." I'd have done a lap of honour and high-fived the guide if there had been room. 

The Paycocke's scone
The tearoom at Paycocke's was lovely - it only opened in 2013 and it has a pretty little outdoor bit and then an indoor part within the house itself, which I always love - but I don't think the scone was homemade. It reminded me of the River Wey scone, which definitely came out of a packet, but it didn't matter at all. It was just marvellous to sit outside in the little courtyard on a Sunday morning and marvel at Paycocke's survival and my burgeoning knowledge of Tudor panelling styles.  

Paycocke's: 5 out of 5
Scone: 3 out of 5
Making me feel like Simon Schama with my vast historical knowledge: 5 out of 5