Dear Readers, one of the joys of being retired is that it gives me a chance to explore a bit more of London, and bask in its history. And so, on Monday, I took a trip to Ham House in Richmond, to get an eyeful of the 17th interiors and to admire the Stuart-era gardens. It’s a very imposing building, and there’s a very imposing chap in the middle of the lawn. It makes a real change to see a statue of a naked man given such prominence, as opposed to the usual women who look as if their clothes have dropped off. This is Old Father Thames, very appropriate considering that the river runs a few hundred metres away.

But first, a quick trot around the gardens, as the house doesn’t open until midday. There’s a whole lot of geometry going – not my favourite style of garden, but extremely impressive nonetheless.

Interestingly, there appears to be no evidence that the gardens were like this originally, but even so it was decided to keep them, and they’re certainly a talking point! At the back of the house is ‘the wilderness, a series of intersecting paths and lawns absolutely busting with bulbs, and with strategically-placed conservatories and other places to sit. Much more to my taste.

The grape hyacinths and some species tulips are out at the moment, and a few bluebells are just coming into flower – they look very like English bluebells to me, so it will be spectacular in a few weeks.

And here’s a view of the back of the house. I can just imagine the Stuart carriages pulling up, and hear the sound of the horses’ hooves on the gravel.

A lot of attention is now being put into the kitchen garden, which grows a wide variety of fruit and veg, and lots of flowers for the house and the essential National Trust café.

There are all manner of espaliered fruit trees along the wall…

And there is the most magnificent wisteria along the wall of the café, just waiting to burst into bloom. What a photo opportunity that will be! Wisteria Hysteria, anybody?

Anyhow, now it’s midday and time to go into the house itself. It was built in 1610 and was first occupied by William Murray, 1st Earl of Dysart. He was a close childhood friend of Charles I, and might have been his ‘whipping boy’ – this was a child brought up alongside a royal child, and  who took all the punishments meant for the monarch to be. I imagine that the house was something of a compensation. However, this was a time of change, and being a Royalist sympathiser wasn’t such a smart move after Charles I was executed. William shrewdly signed the house over to his wife Katherine, who somehow managed to keep the house from being handed over to the Parliamentarians after paying a 500 pound fine. You can still see the words ‘ Vivat Rex’ over the very impressive front door.

Then you go into the Great Hall, probably used for dining and entertaining.

The staircase is astonishing, with individual carvings of everything from horse armour to cannons. I was very sorry that my military-history buff husband wasn’t there to explain all the details. Historian Christopher Rowell described the staircase as ‘without a close parallel in the British Isles’. It’s thought to date back to the 1630s.

I have always had a great fondness for marquetry, which is surprising as I am hardly a dab hand with a chisel. But look at this cabinet! It wasn’t open when I visited, but the interior is full of little drawers and niches and cubby holes of all kinds. It’s made from ebony, stained bone, walnut, stained fruitwood and (alas) ivory.

There’s a fine portrait of Charles I by Van Dyck. Whenever I look at these portraits, I always wonder at which point he realised that he was doomed.

And this is a bit of a mystery. It depicts Elizabeth Murray, the daughter of William and Katherine, who rose to prominence when Charles II came to the throne. She married the Duke of Lauderdale, Lionel Tollemache and Ham House became a centre of Restoration intrigue. But what of the black child? The portrait doesn’t mention him at all, so we have no idea if he was part of the retinue of the house, or if the artist brought him along as a ‘prop’, which according to one of the guides was not at all unusual.

Apparently, although when the house was first built the family were likely to have dined at a single long table, later the fashion was for smaller individual tables, as if you were in a restaurant.

And this is Elizabeth’s bedroom, but at the moment it’s showing a Stuart reclining chair rather than her bed.

Downstairs is the bathroom, which has both a round Stuart bath, and a nineteenth century rectangular one. Being so close to the bedroom would have been very handy!

Downstairs, via a very narrow and plain staircase, is the servants’ quarters. I like that some of the details of the people who worked in the house are stencilled onto the walls, the dates and job titles gleaned from the accounting records of the house. A very knowledgeable guide told us that laundress would have earned three pounds per year, while the mole-catcher earned four pounds and ten shillings.

When the house was first built, there would have been no interior staircase linking the kitchen and servants’ quarters to the rest of the house, so all the food would have been walked around the outside of the building. But latterly the servants had a way of taking the food upstairs without braving the elements, though it’s thought that maids and kitchen boys used to sleep under the table when there was something that needed to be watched overnight, such as bread baking or possibly meat roasting.

Ham House remained in the Tollemache family until 1948, when the house was given to the National Trust and the contents to the Victoria and Albert Museum (later they were brought back to the property). It is a remarkable survival from Stuart times, and the National Trust have done a great job of preserving it and of putting it into context. I recommend a visit if you’re in London, and the café does a great cheese and onion marmalade toasted sandwich if you’re in need of a bite.