Even by wedding-day standards, this was special. On a Saturday morning during the heatwave in July, 110 guests in kilts and salwar kameez presented themselves on lawns planned 250 years ago by Capability Brown himself. They were offered tea, samosas and a string quartet; champagne, canapés and jazz. The best bit for the Scottish-Asian bride, though, was that it took place in her own back garden: all eight acres of it.
Indira Chima, a marketing manager, and her husband, John Coyle, a purchasing consultant, live in Cheverells, a Grade II-listed Queen Anne house in Markyate, near St Albans, Hertfordshire. Strictly speaking, they don’t live in the house, but in one of the former servants’ houses round the back, but it doesn’t make much difference. When they joined the growing number of people moving into sections of converted stately homes — and their outbuildings — they bought the right to use the same address and the same awe-inspiring grounds as those on what used to be the right side of the green baize door.
Buying into a subdivided mansion is a great way to get something grand for a fraction of the normal price and with none of the usual hassle. But it’s not all crustless cucumber sandwiches — you need to be sociable for a start. When the stairwell you share with the lot upstairs comes panelled and pilastered, you are expected to muster a greeting whenever you pass, however bleary-eyed you may feel. And there’s not much privacy.
Chima and Coyle, both 38, share Cheverells’ grounds with nine other households and love everything about the communal life, but it wouldn’t be everybody’s cup of china tea. “You are in each other’s faces,” Chima says. “Most of us have patios and, although it’s nice to sit out drinking wine, if somebody has an argument, you hear it.”
The couple bought their three-bed home for £399,000 in 2003. “We wanted something different, with character, but built to a modern spec,” Chima says.
They quickly adapted to modern country-house ways. “I got a telling-off for putting my washing out on the line,” she says. “There’s a covenant against that. And there have been a few issues with people’s dogs, but we look after each other, too. We are like a family.”
And, as in a family, some people are more diligent than others about putting out the rubbish. “We have meetings to discuss issues, and if you’ve got a problem, you’ve got to say it nicely.”
The system seems to work and residents have regular get-togethers. “One neighbour had a posh sit-down dinner for everybody. Others have barbecues. A few weeks ago, John and I hosted drinks.”
She insists there is no social hierarchy, though there are glaring price discrepancies. The two sections of the main house were each on the market at £1.4m in 2003. One, for sale again now at £1.8m, has seven bedrooms, magnificent reception rooms and, of course, those great grounds. But then, they all have those.
Indeed, posh parkland is as much of a draw as good rooms and pretty plasterwork for the communal country set, despite the fact that it doesn’t come cheap — typically an extra £1,500-£2,500 a year, often to include building insurance, exterior decoration and maintenance, gardening and a sinking fund, though these vary, as do covenants. The efficiency and fees of managing agents vary too, and on some estates residents take over the task themselves. And why not? In general, the people buying into these conversions do so because they love the buildings and want to take care of them.
They’re doing a good job. Many of these houses wouldn’t still be standing if they’d been left whole. The movement to divide and rule started more than 30 years ago, after an exhibition curated by Sir Roy Strong at the V&A, The Destruction of the Country House, which catalogued the loss of many beautiful stately homes and led to the foundation of the Save Britain’s Heritage campaign. It wasn’t long before developer Kit Martin began the trend of converting stately homes into smaller units.
Others followed. Tim Sargeant, managing director of restoration and conversion specialist City & Country Group, had been working with his father and uncle in their construction business near Bishop’s Stortford since he left school. When the housing recession hit in the 1990s, Sargeant, now 40, moved the company away from commercial new-builds and into residential restoration. “We needed to offer something different and we enjoyed working with old properties,” he says.
City & Country currently has planning permission for about 400 units. One project, at Herringswell Manor, a Grade II-listed Edwardian house in Suffolk, will provide 52 apartments and cottages in the grounds of what was once a London merchant’s country retreat. Herringswell is just a 25-minute drive from Cambridge, yet it stands in peaceful surroundings with far-reaching views over fields protected by covenant from encroaching suburbia. Inside the mock-Tudor main house are 10 apartments, five off one staircase, and five off another.
Big rooms are a big draw. “People have been doing country-house conversions since the 1970s, but it started to take off in the 1990s,” says Sargeant. “People no longer want a huge house with commitments, but those who are used to big houses need big rooms for their furniture.”
Herringswell, then, will be just the ticket. The main apartments have about 2,500sq ft of floor space, with just two bedrooms apiece. The reception rooms are not only massive, they come with a staggering array of original features, from high ceilings to dados, friezes and ornate architraves. “You couldn’t build these units today for the price we sell them for,” says Sargeant.
Rupert Sweeting, of estate agency Knight Frank, sells country properties. “When you get up to 30,000sq ft or more, there are few people who want to take on a house of that size,” he says. “Over the past 20 years there’s been a terrific boost in these developments. As the original owners have been crippled by death duties, the smart people bought them and split them up. The skill is in dealing with the planners: then you can sell apartments of, say, 3,000sq ft with beautiful views at a fraction of the cost. But most have been done already.”
Not quite all. There’s a Grade I-listed priory at St Osyth, near Clacton-on-Sea, Essex, that’s ripe for conversion and it’s been bought by the Sargeant family for themselves. They have no problem living near each other: “I live in one part, my parents have another and my two brothers each have a part,” says Sargeant. Their only problem is finding time to do the work.
On the market
Ashfield Grange, near Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk, has been split into houses and flats, from £239,500. Savills, 01223 347 147, www.savills.co.uk; David Burr, 01359 245 245, www.davidburr.co.uk
Coltishall Hall, an 18th-century manor house near Norwich, has been converted into three four-bed flats, starting at £395,000. Savills, 01603 229 229, www.savills.co.uk
In Burnham, near Windsor, Hitcham House’s west wing, with a private garden, is for sale for £565,000. Savills, 01494 731 950, www.savills.co.uk
Prices at Herringswell start from £245,000, 01279 817 900, www.cityandcountry.co.uk
10 Cheverells House, Markyate, is for sale for £1.8m with Savills, 01582 465 000, www.savills.co.uk
