Felbrigg Hall

If planning on spending a week touring Norfolk via its National Trust properties, it only makes sense to start with the smallest and work your way up. Which is what we ended up doing, albeit not entirely intentionally, starting with Felbrigg Hall. 

Compared to other large country houses, whether in National Trust care or owned by the original family, Felbrigg is certainly much more of an afternoon visit than a day-out. It is not the grandest of houses. It’s big but not beautiful and the previous owners were mere misters rather than lords but as it says in their guidebook, Felbrigg is “full of delights.”

As I said, the house is fairly small. And incredibly dark. Of course, the National Trust keeps most of the rooms in their houses dark in order to preserve the valuable contents from over exposure to sunlight, but here the furnishings were dark and the pictures somewhat morbid. Not ever owned by anyone of particular importance (unless you consider wealth alone important), it is understandable that this would be the case. Not only has the house been spared the honour of a royal visit, thus making the need for grandiosity more of a personal choice than a matter of protocol, but without kings having been entertained, the family obviously didn't see the need for displaying their pictures either. And a portrait of a king or queen does much more for a dark, wood-panelled room than a plain oil painting of a rich farmer and his dowdy wife. And not only this, but it also makes a place all the more interesting to visit.

Nevertheless, Felbrigg does offer its garden, mostly dead because of the weather, and the wider estate, which was once one of the largest in Norfolk. One of the most impressing things about the house though, something which it seems I’m only discovering thanks to the National Trust, was the inclusion of ‘downstairs’ in the tour. Although technically another wing of the house instead of actually being downstairs, an aspect of the property that destroyed any hope of symmetry, the machine of the house where the servants went about their daily duties out of sight of their employers was, unusually, far more interesting than the house itself.

Not only were the kitchens on display, but visitors were also able to peek into the butler’s pantry, the china closet and enter the servants hall where they would have eaten all their meals and socialised in-between jobs.

Unfortunately for Felbrigg, its major shortfall was in the tea-room. When asking for a ‘pot of tea for two,’ I’m used to this meaning enough for two people. Apparently at this residence, guests like us weren't worthy of such indulgences as more than 2 cups each per pot. Maybe this was a reference to the former family’s evident thriftiness.