Eyre Hall, Part II

This is the view from Eyre Hall's formal garden looking towards Cherrystone Creek. This is the real Eyre Hall, not to be confused with the other Eyre Hall another stately mansion nearby.

For details on this other lovely mansion that was definitely not Eyre Hall, see yesterday's post, where Chesapeake Bay Woman trespasses spends half a day frolicking with wild horses while wandering aimlessly around someone's exquisite property.

Here's what the main house looks like. As you can see it is immaculately maintained, which was one clue that I was in the right place.
(The other clue was a sign with an arrow pointing to the gardens.)

The colonial-era house is surrounded by an oyster shell driveway, white fences, numerous adorable outbuildings and one absolutely stunning garden loaded with huge boxwoods just brimming with that smell that lets you know you're stepping back in time.

Much to my surprise, the ruins of an old brick building stood just outside the gardens, facing the water near the Eyre family cemetery--which contains graves dating back to the 1700s.

Note: My hasty editing ruined/blurred this particular shot of the remains of a structure known as the orangery:
If you're wondering:

(a) how on Earth I knew this was called an orangery;
(b) what on Earth an orangery is;
(c) why on Earth you should do anything but fall asleep right now; but also
(d) how many times CBW can say the word "orangery" in one post,

the short answer comes from Wikipedia. Evidently an orangery is a greenhouse or conservatory found in certain 17th-19th century houses:

"The orangery, however, was not just a greenhouse but a symbol of prestige and wealth and a feature of the garden, in the same way as a summer house, folly or "Grecian temple". Owners would conduct their guests there on tours of the garden to admire not only the fruits within but the architecture without. Often the orangery would contain fountains, grottoes, and an area in which to entertain in inclement weather."

Thank you, Wikipedia. Is anyone still awake?

Below is another glance towards the creek from one of the Parthenon's windows the orangery's windows.

Orangery might be my new favorite word. May I bring you a blanket or pillow?

And here's a glimpse of those gorgeous boxwoods with that heavy, earthy, intoxicating smell. The garden was one big maze of boxwoods surrounding mini secret gardens, loaded with flowers and exotic plants, and benches sprinkled throughout. I could spend an eternity just sitting and absorbing the sights and smells of this place.
For a little more background on Eyre Hall, my BFF Wikipedia says this:

"The property where Eyre Hall is located was first patented to the three sons of Thomas Eyre I in 1668 and included 1,600 acres. A 700 acre tract was purchased by Littleton Eyre, a great grandson of Thomas, in 1754 with the purpose to build a family seat and a working plantation. The original structure built in 1760 was a 41-foot-square structure and was a 2 1/2 story wooden home.

The property grew periodically over the years too, as a a dairy was built in 1760 and a smokehouse was built around 1806. The house is surrounded by boxwood gardens, and formal lawns and fields that melt away into the Cherrystone Creek. On the grounds is also a walled garden from the 1800s, the Eyre family cemetery, and the ruins of an orangery from 1819."

Am I the only person who is still awake? had never heard of an orangery?

Eyre Hall, Part I

A while back I read a magazine article about an estate called Eyre Hall over on the Eastern Shore, which is on the other side of the bay from Mathews (about 10-15 miles as the crow flies, but about 2 hours as the car drives).

Every now and again I'll get over to the Eastern Shore and have seen the sign for the historic home, but I always thought it was private property. According to the article, the gardens are open to trespassers the general public. So yesterday, on my drive home from Delaware, I decided to stop in and take some photos.

After a long drive down a lane riddled with pot holes (odd, I remember thinking at the time, because the article made the place sound immaculately kept), I came to the entrance gate and was stunned to be greeted by the horses above, who evidently had broken out of their fence and were trotting across the driveway in front of me. There were five or six of them running wild all over the property.

Strange, I thought.

There was nobody else around, so I pulled over on the grass and wandered around with my camera. The house itself was massive, and incredibly beautiful, but very, very much....in need of maintenance. The article said the house was normally closed, so I wasn't expecting that to be open, but I also wasn't expecting it to be so...in need of maintenance.

Perhaps they focus their resources on the gardens, I told myself.

Below is a shot from where I parked my car. Notice the holes in the windows and the shutters hanging off leaning against the house.

At this juncture most normal people might conclude that they were in the wrong place, but not Chesapeake Bay Woman, who is anything but normal kept wandering all over the grounds in search of this secret public garden.

This magnificent home on an enormous amount of land is on Cherrystone Creek, which leads out to the bay. I wandered all over admiring the views the waist-high grass and the charming outbuildings.

Still, I couldn't figure out where the gardens were.

The more I wandered around, the more perplexed I became. Why would they publish a magazine article advertising magnificent gardens that were so difficult to find?

Perhaps the photo below can begin to convey the state of affairs at these "Open to the Public" formal gardens:

Finally, Chesapeake Bay Woman returned to her car with a camera full of delightful pictures of a beautiful, stately, waterfront manor whose windows were smudged with her noseprints. Her fingerprints may even be on the locked doorknob, who knows.

But alas she had no photographs of the much touted formal gardens.

Little did she know that the reason she had no garden photos is because this was the wrong house.

Dear Property Owners, I had no idea. I think swear the sign at the end of the road said Eyre Hall. But really, your place is gorgeous. You might want to make sure the horses stay out of the road, though, You never know when some frizzy-haired woman might drop by unannounced and unknowingly trespass startle them.

If I hadn't eventually found the real Eyre Hall, I'd still be wondering why I couldn't find the gardens at this first house.

The whole experience was surreal. Truly.

Sort of like last weekend's Womanless Beauty Pageant:

Stay tuned for photos from the real Eyre Hall and the gardens, which not only exist but are truly works of art, just like those biceps on Lady #6 above.