Rodney Anness, a new volunteer at Scampston, reflects on his visit to Scampston Hall's Big Vintage Festival last weekend
The bright friendly welcome from the ticket officer manning the desk (why is it never womanning?) set the tone for an enjoyable
visit to the fourth annual vintage car rally in the grounds of Scampston Hall. The
rally is organised by the,
‘North of England Classic
and Pre War Automobiles Motoring Club’
who were founded in
1966 so this year is their 60th Anniversary. They are also known
informally and with great affection as the,
‘Nearly Everywhere
Club for Pretty Well Anything Motoring Club’!
A break in the drizzly weather which progressively improved
as the morning wore on prepared this most un-technically minded photo
correspondent for the sight of some 200 lovingly restored vehicles from the
1940s to the 1960s or there about. First impressions were of snaking lines of
glittering machinery with attendant acolytes hovering over them, dusters in
hand anticipating the admission of the public. Vehicles of every shape, colour
and size weaved their way around and over the contours and between Capability
Brown’s gloriously positioned trees with the background of the Hall to set off a
truly magnificent scene. The splendour of the parkland setting called attention,
if it was needed, to the old saying that good design can cope with anything
later generations might impose on it. Rather like Shakespearean plays in modern
dress the strong underlying structure of the gardens and parkland surrounding
the Hall is only enhanced by an invasion that Brown and his successors can never
have dreamed of.
As the public flocked in it was soon apparent that this was
a very knowledgeable crowd and very soon bonnets were opened and the finer
points of the equally pristine mass of machinery and wiring discussed with much
furrowing of brow and thoughtful nods. And what a selection of Britain ’s
past automotive glory. There were representatives of the Triumph, Javelin,
Alvis and Rover factories and many other marques not forgetting the beautiful
racy looking, Rileys. More stately representatives from the Rolls, Jaguars and
Bentley were (almost) matched by huge cars from America such as Mustangs and an
Oldsmobile complete with tail fins of legend. This last model was filled with
equally large Teddy bears but not, thankfully, in the driving seat. Manoeuvring
these monsters from across the Atlantic must be somewhat problematic around North Yorkshire ’s narrow lanes.
On a lighter note refreshment was being served in a vast
marquee and burgers in a American style shiny motor caravan and an old Citroen
van complete with its corrugated sides. Near here were a trio of young ladies
called, I discovered from their manager, ‘Scarlet Rain’. They were singing hits
from the eras represented by cars in the adjacent area and to my very inexpert
ear, they sounded pretty good. Some of the appreciative audience were also
dressed appropriately to the era of the cars on view but not many sadly of the
men. . An exception was a chap with a Biggles style helmet and a magnificent
moustache. I didn’t see what vehicle he was driving but I wager it wasn’t an Austin 7.
Just before I was
leaving I noticed an area of the park reserved for motor bikes amongst which
was a motorbike and side car combination. The tank was proudly emblazoned,
‘made in USSR ’
and the sidecar had a red star on its camouflaged green sides. What
particularly impressed me was the sturdiness of its construction. The metal
tubing was of a dimension we normally see on builder’s scaffolding with tyres
that I can only describe as ‘knobbly’. A tribute perhaps to the state of some
of Russia ’s
more rural roads.
A late arrival was an elderly Leyland
bus which looked as if it strayed from the set of the old TV drama, ‘All
Creatures Great and Small’.
As I walked back to the exit I saw two elderly gentlemen deep
in conversation beside a very venerable drop head Ford which looked to be considerably
older than most of the cars on display. One of the chaps was sitting on the
wide foot board that ran the length of the car. I asked if I might take a photo
and they immediately went to stand and move for me. I explained that I wanted
them in a picture beside the Ford to which they readily agreed.
As I journeyed home I thought of their kind thoughtfulness so
typical of everyone I met throughout my visit. My firm conclusion was that the
owners of these ‘venerable car’ are not in anyway mere, ‘petrol heads’. They
are as passionately determined to preserve these magnificent examples from the
recent past as are the custodians of works of art in Scampston Hall and are
similarly, very willing to display them to we lucky members of the public.
Rodney Anness.
