There is something unmistakably romantic about waking up in an old Cornish watermill, where everything feels frozen in time, yet the breath of new life drifts in like morning breeze through open windows. This duality lingers throughout Riverstone Mill: in the kitchen, where timeworn flagstones find harmony with deVOL counters, and in the once-forgotten garden, whose soil now offers its own seasonal harvest. Here, we trace the path of its custodian who, fuelled by a desire to carve out a quiet corner of the earth for himself, embarked on this project so he too could re-root.
“I bought the house because I’d been working with the environment for a number of years, and I realised I was talking the talk, but not walking the walk,” the property owner notes. “I wanted to make changes in my own life.” This resulted in a year-and-a-half expedition around the country, searching for a place where new seeds could be sown. Unfamiliar with the quiet beauty of Cornwall, it was the house itself that was the allurer – “I came across this old watermill and saw that it had a vegetable garden that needed some love, and an old hydro turbine.” Hailing from London, the promise of being able to produce his own food and, one day, renewable energy felt as though the stars had aligned. Visiting the mill on a hazy July day three years ago cemented his ambitions: “There was a severe drought in London at the time. I came down here and everything was green and verdant and beautiful. The power of water.”
Moving in to fully commit to the house, the enormity of the project quickly revealed itself. Passing from the twenty-year stewardship of the former owner, the building was in need of a tender hand. “I wanted to do the work myself, but realised I had no practical abilities whatsoever,” the owner adds. “Thankfully, I met an amazing local builder called Ash.” Together, they carried out a full interior renovation – which involved preserving and rediscovering original elements from previous chapters of the mill, whilst modernising necessary spaces. Wooden beams were sandblasted, fake ceilings were removed and dividing walls were knocked down. “I wanted to use materials that could only be found in Cornwall,” the owner enthuses, “so we covered walls in Cornish lime plaster, and sourced much of the interior's wood from a fallen ash tree nearby."
Finding its muse in the natural world, rooms here feel organic and rustic. Neutral colour palettes tell stories of both sun-kissed Balearic sand and dewy Cornish woodland: a gentle nod to landscapes that have shaped the owner. "Artwork is key to the space," he explains, which feels fitting knowing this watermill was once home to British countryside cartoonist Norman Thelwell, and is the protagonist of his water-coloured tale A Millstone Round My Neck. Now, walls are adorned with artwork inspired by nature: foraged botanicals pressed in glass and natural-dye hangings by Cornwall-based textile studio Mara Vera.
Linens softly drape about the place, aged wood brings tactility, and windows capture the sun’s full journey around the house, from dawn to dusk. “My favourite room in the house is the master bathroom,” the owner explains. “It’s the former mill room, complete with original features.” There's a Catchpole & Rye copper bath too, which beckons through glass doors, allowing guests to bathe within the home's history. It's here that the design of the house speaks most clearly and reveals the sympathetic hands in which it now rests – forgotten parts cherished once more, and old bones given a new lease of life.
Outside, the garden feels like an oasis. Four acres of green and water; of cascading willows and glassy mill ponds. But – as with any good story – first, we need a climax. “The garden renovation was a disaster,” reflects the owner. “It rained non stop in the first year of me being here, and we got a giant digger stuck in the garden when we were removing old railway sleepers.” When this secretive Cornish valley awakens from slumber in springtime, wisteria sets the walls to lilac and the permaculture garden shows signs of new life. “I spend a lot of time in the greenhouse and garden,” he adds. “With the help of my postman, Mark, we grow a lot of things like tomatoes, leeks, peas, broad beans, rhubarb, squash, onions and potatoes.”
Parallels emerge with the protagonists of Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, who dream of self-sufficiency and “living off the fat of the land” during the Great Depression. An innate craving for simpler times, guided by the romance of slowness – echoed here in the owner’s days spent digging muddy spuds for supper, feeding ducks, and paddling in the river. With a swimming pool, wood-fired hot tub and sauna on hand if things ever get too…back to basics. “Life here is radically different to London,” he explains. “What is most striking is the quiet. The only thing you can hear at Riverstone is the birdsong, the occasional pitter patter of rain on the old slate roof, and the trickle of water as it runs past the house. It’s a little, tranquil lost world.”
In restoring this old Cornish watermill, it's clear something in its owner has been restored too. Having crafted a sanctuary in which to slow down; to live and breath the values held dear; to re-root. Now shared with others in search of the same.
Feeling inspired? Discover more of our Owner Chronicles, peruse our collection of secret garden escapes, or find your own oasis in Cornwall.
