Mount Stewart House & Gardens

    If ever there were a place in Ireland where mythology, politics, botany and aristocratic oddity converge in glorious technicolour, it would be Mount Stewart, County Down. I spent Easter Day there this year, and I can confirm: it’s every bit as strange and splendid as that sounds.

    Nestled on the eastern edge of Northern Ireland, overlooking the still and silver waters of Strangford Lough, this is no ordinary stately home—and its story is no mere echo of Downton Abbey. Think more along the lines of Brideshead Revisited, if Charles Ryder had been given a pair of secateurs and free rein in an Italianate fantasy.

    Let’s take a stroll, shall we?

The House That Outgrew Its Summers

    Mount Stewart began its transformation into a grand estate in the 18th century, under the stewardship of Alexander Stewart, a wealthy linen merchant turned landowner. It was his son, Robert Stewart, who really put the place on the map—better known to history buffs as Lord Castlereagh, the British Foreign Secretary who helped defeat Napoleon and, with surgical diplomacy, stitched Europe back together at the Congress of Vienna. He was one of those men who could make a room feel smaller just by entering it, and whose ghost allegedly walks the house—possibly still trying to explain why the Congress lasted nine months.

    Originally, the Stewarts regarded Mount Stewart as little more than a summer retreat. They spent only fleeting weeks here, favouring their other properties for political and social life. But over time, the estate began to cast its spell—particularly in the 20th century—until it evolved from a peripheral pleasure ground into the family’s primary Irish residence, deeply loved and meticulously developed.

    Castlereagh’s fate was rather tragic—racked by mental illness, he died by suicide in 1822—but his family continued to play a major role in British and Irish politics. By the 20th century, the Stewarts had become Marquesses of Londonderry and Mount Stewart had grown into a home of international significance, with prime ministers, kings and queens all paying visits. Yes, even Winston Churchill turned up once and left an autographed menu. One assumes the food was acceptable.

Edith, the Garden Sorceress

    If Mount Stewart’s interiors echo the layered intrigues of empire and war, its gardens are altogether more magical—and we have one woman to thank: Edith, Marchioness of Londonderry, a formidable figure who wore ostrich feathers to breakfast and could outmanoeuvre many a male politician before elevenses.

    In the 1920s and '30s, Lady Edith transformed the grounds into what is now widely considered one of the greatest gardens in the British Isles (and beyond). A horticultural visionary with a fondness for the theatrical, she ignored Northern Ireland’s latitude and decided, instead, to garden as if she were on the Riviera.

    Thanks to the estate’s microclimate—protected by the lough and blessed with mild winters—she succeeded. Here you’ll find exotic species from all corners of the empire, including eucalyptus, palm trees, and even gunnera manicata, which looks like it was designed by Jim Henson for a dinosaur musical. It’s the sort of garden where you feel foreign, not the plants.

    But there’s a twist. Edith didn’t just plant flowers—she wove mythology and allegory into every hedge and urn. The Spanish Garden, with its playful tiles and clipped symmetry, is balanced by the dark, brooding Irish Garden, where topiary heraldic beasts snarl in yew. There’s a Dodo Terrace (complete with actual stone dodos), and a sunken garden that looks like it was dropped in from Atlantis. There are busts of philosophers, poets, and Edith’s own political enemies. Subtle, she was not.

    And she wasn’t just pruning borders—Lady Londonderry was one of the most politically connected women of her time. A fierce hostess and unofficial political adviser, she famously had a direct telephone line to Downing Street, putting her just one receiver-lift away from the Prime Minister. Today, we’d call her a power broker. Back then, she was simply known as “The Marchioness.”

Reviving a Sleeping Grandeur

    After decades of decline and a change in fortunes (as often happens with such grand homes), the National Trust took Mount Stewart under its wing. A painstaking, multi-million pound restoration in the 2010s brought the house back to its former splendour, peeling back layers of time like an architectural lasagne.

    Now visitors can admire not only the lush gardens but also the remarkable interiors: original furnishings, gilded ceilings, and family memorabilia that reads like a who’s who of Anglo-Irish aristocracy. The library alone is enough to give a bibliophile heart palpitations, while the drawing room looks like it’s just waiting for Noël Coward to descend the staircase. Even the laundry has been restored—which might not sound glamorous, but you’ve never seen a Victorian mangle look quite so chic.

   However, the gardens faced a formidable challenge recently. In late January 2025, Storm Éowyn unleashed hurricane-force winds across Northern Ireland, with Mount Stewart among the hardest-hit estates. The storm toppled over 10,000 trees across the 900-acre demesne, devastating parts of the formal gardens and woodlands . This loss of mature trees, many with significant histories, serves as a poignant reminder of nature's unpredictability and the ongoing challenges posed by climate change.

    Yet, true to Lady Edith’s spirit of resilience and vision, the National Trust has embarked on extensive restoration efforts. Guided by her original designs and ethos, they aim to rejuvenate the gardens, ensuring that Mount Stewart continues to enchant visitors for generations to come.

Plan Your Visit: Take Your Time

    Mount Stewart isn’t a “pop in and out” sort of site—it’s an estate that rewards the curious and the contemplative. I’d strongly recommend setting aside a minimum of three hours, but if you can, five would be more appropriate to thoroughly explore both the house and the extensive gardens and woodlands. There are woodland walks, lakeside trails, and charming benches where time has been known to slow down altogether.

    And crucially, it’s also a place for tea. The café serves scones that would bring Lady Londonderry back from the dead just to critique the jam-to-cream ratio.

Mount Stewart Today: Eccentric, Elegant, Essential

    Today, Mount Stewart is many things: a site of national importance, a masterpiece of landscape design, and a destination for lovers of history, gardens, and curious aristocratic tales. It's a place where past and present flirt constantly—where a tree planted by T.E. Lawrence stands quietly by a path once trodden by royalty, and where Edith’s spirit lingers in every hydrangea and clipped sphinx.

    So, whether you’re a keen gardener, a history nerd, a political junkie, or just someone who enjoys a good dodo, Mount Stewart is the kind of place that leaves an impression—not just of the aristocracy’s glory days, but of what happens when nature, power, and imagination are left unsupervised in a grand estate.