The Old Homes of the County
By J. A. Gotch, F.S.A.
The old houses of Derbyshire are remarkable both for their number and for the variety of architectural periods which they illustrate. In them may be traced the development of domestic architecture, century by century, from the time of William Rufus down to the Georges. Not only are they interesting as a guide to the evolution of style, but also in their variety of size and importance. There is the small and ancient Peak Castle; the comparatively modern palace of Chatsworth; the great house of Haddon, with work of every century from the thirteenth to the seventeenth; the extensive ruins of Wingfield; the splendid remains of Bolsover; while among the dales and on the hill sides of the northern parts of the county are many diminutive manor houses, like Offerton and Highlow, or Snitterton and North Lees. Not only are there houses innumerable, but also many remains of the charming settings in which they were placed; ancient gardens like those at Melbourne; simple lay-outs, with terrace, steps, and paved walks like that at Eyam; quaint archways, like those at Tissington and Bradshaw. In the south of the county, near Sudbury, are several highly interesting half-timbered houses, of which the hall of Somersal Herbert, of three distinct dates, is the most striking instance. There is, indeed, hardly any point of interest connected with the amenities of by-gone house architecture which is not illustrated in this charming county.
The Peak Castle is an interesting example of the early manner of house building. It is a kind of midland pele-tower, resembling those small fortified dwellings, or watch-towers, or outlying forts, which abound in Northumberland along the Scottish border. Indeed, it is a specimen on a small scale of what all its contemporaries were like. It consisted of a keep and a courtyard, defended from attack by a strong wall on one side and natural precipices on the others. Most of the castles of that time consisted of little more. The keep was the dwelling-house, the courtyard was the fortified enclosure, giving breathing space and serving as a place of refuge in troublous times for the cattle and dependants of the lord. Great keeps like those at Rochester, in Kent, or Hedingham, in Essex, or Kenilworth, in Warwickshire, or (to judge from its foundations) Duffield, the Derbyshire house of the Ferrers, were tolerably well found, and provided what might then be considered luxurious abodes. This Castle of the Peak, in its original state, contained the minimum of what was tolerable. It consisted of only three storeys, one of which was partly underground, and it had no fireplace; but in those days, more often than not, the fire was placed in the middle of the floor, and the smoke found its way out through the windows, supplemented, where possible, by a kind of ventilating turret in the roof. It could not have been the residence of a large family, and may have been little more than a watch-tower. But the probability is that it was the home of its owner, and the amount of comfort which the stay-at-home women of the family must have experienced may be conceived by anyone who will seat himself in one of the window recesses on a chilly day in summer, and gaze through the rain across the valley on to the blurred mass of Lose hill.
Very different in size and in variety of interest is Haddon Hall; yet Haddon Hall, like the Peak Castle, is no longer, according to modern notions of comfort, a tolerable dwelling, although we cannot agree with Horace Walpole that it never could have been considered such. For a long period it was the home of a powerful family, and was altered again and again to meet the need which successive centuries demanded. Parts of the chapel take us back to a date but little subsequent to that of the Peak Castle; and although few, if any, remains of the rest of the contemporary house are to be seen, yet the existence of the chapel indicates that it pertained to a large house. It is easy to understand that the discomforts of a primitive house would call for remedy long before the chapel grew out of date, and we need not wonder that the chapel should be the only surviving portion of the original dwelling. The kind of accommodation to be found in a keep, however large, grew to be insufficient and inconvenient, and it became the fashion no longer to pile one room over another, but to spread them out horizontally, and thereby, among other advantages, to assign to the various rooms different sizes suitable to their different purposes. The hall, always the chief apartment, was made the central feature; the kitchens were attached to one end, the family rooms to the other; the courtyard was enclosed by ranges of buildings looking into it, and presenting little but blank walls to the outside world; through one of these ranges was pierced the entrance gateway, defended by strong doors, and sometimes a portcullis, such as rased Marmion’s plume as he dashed in hot haste from under its falling mass. Haddon is a good illustration of this kind of house, only it has two courts, with the hall placed between them, as well for greater security as to obtain large windows on each of its main sides. There are very few windows of the older rooms looking out into the country, and the kitchen in particular suffers in this respect, for a darker apartment can scarcely ever have been devoted to such important uses. The windows of the long gallery, now called the ballroom, are large and airy; but they date from Elizabeth’s time, when defensive precautions were no longer necessary. Haddon appeals to all sorts and conditions of men. Its romantic situation and venerable appearance delight the ordinary sightseer; its veritable and unrestored antiquity appeals to the more earnest student of by-gone ways; while to those interested in the minute details of the past, it is a storehouse of all kinds of work wrought in all kinds of styles. Surely, it has enough of true and genuine interest to be able to dispense with the fictitious, sixpenny-magazine romance of Dorothy Vernon. Let those who cling to her invented story, and picture her as a fascinating, winsome heroine, go and look at her portraiture on her monument in Bakewell Church—a more staid, prosaic person could hardly be imagined.
Another romantically placed house is Bolsover Castle, which is mentioned in ancient records as a sister stronghold of the Peak Castle. Of the early building nothing is now left; but the sites of the keep and of the enclosing wall are curiously preserved, and occupied by highly interesting buildings of the early seventeenth century. The keep is replaced by a square house, planned with considerable ingenuity so as to obtain within a limited and strictly defined space the customary arrangements of a Jacobean residence. It rises abruptly from the brow of a steep hill, and looks far and wide over the valley now studded with colliery chimneys. Within the thickness of the wall which marks the enceinte of ancient times are contrived quaint chambers, carefully vaulted and furnished in some cases with curious chimney-pieces. Indeed, this early seventeenth century work, particularly in the successor of the keep, is quite remarkable in respect of its vaulting and its fireplaces. Vaulting was very seldom used in Jacobean work, yet here we have examples of that method of construction which need not fear comparison with those of earlier days, when masons were much more accustomed to its use. The chimney-pieces at Bolsover are a noteworthy series, exhibiting a great variety of treatment, yet preserving a family likeness, and adorned, most of them, with unusual delicacy. This part of the castle was executed for Sir Charles Cavendish, a son of the renowned Bess of Hardwick, about the year 1613. The actual owner of Bolsover was Gilbert, seventh Earl of Shrewsbury; but he had granted a lease of 1,000 years to Sir Charles, who was at once his step-brother and his brother-in-law.
Outside the ancient precincts of this part of the castle stand the ruins of a later building, lying parallel with the brow of the hill, and leaving a broad terrace between the building and the sloping ground. It is designed on a much larger and coarser scale than its neighbour, and was built by Sir William Cavendish, son of Sir Charles, about the year 1629.
It was this Sir William, subsequently created, after a distinguished career, Duke of Newcastle, who wrote a celebrated treatise on horsemanship, some plates of which he adorned with a view of his Bolsover building. This he calls “La Gallerie,” and it was probably intended as a supplement to the somewhat restricted accommodation of the earlier house. The Duke was also responsible for another charming portion of this interesting group of buildings at Bolsover, in the shape of the Riding School, a structure which has a considerable Dutch flavour about it.
Bolsover has been mentioned out of its strict chronological order because of its early foundation and the peculiar manner in which it preserves the outline of the original castle. It has a notable predecessor in date at South Wingfield, where, about the middle of the fifteenth century, Ralph, Lord Cromwell, treasurer to King Henry VI., built a lordly house, which vied with Haddon in importance. Much of it has gone to hopeless ruin, but there still remain long stretches of wall and decayed buildings forming two large courts. The outer gatehouse is left, flanked by an ancient barn. Through the middle of the range which divides the courtyard is pierced a second gateway, over which are carved the purses of the Lord Treasurer. On the opposite side of the second court is the porch of the house itself, leading on one side to the great hall, with its vaulted undercroft, and on the other to the kitchen department. Midway along one of the far-stretching fronts rises a lofty tower, from the summit of which may be studied the domestic economy of a colony of rooks as they sway below in their nests among the topmost branches of the trees.
On the death of its builder, Wingfield passed by purchase to the Earls of Shrewsbury, and in the fulness of time it passed to Gilbert, seventh earl. On his death it went to his eldest daughter, who had married the Earl of Pembroke. Then came the troublous times of Charles I., and Wingfield, being held by the then Earl for the Parliament, who should be sent to attack it but his kinsman, William Cavendish, of Bolsover, Duke of Newcastle, and author of the treatise on horsemanship. The attack was successful, but fickle fortune soon restored it to the Parliament, and by order of that assembly the place was “slighted.” From that drastic operation it has never recovered, although part of it was for a time patched up and made into a residence.
Of work dating from the time of Henry VIII. the county can show hardly any examples. Some panelling at Haddon is the most noteworthy, but this lacks that peculiar mixture of Gothic and French renaissance which makes the work of that time particularly interesting. Yet, even in this panelling, put up by Sir George Vernon, the “King of the Peak,” as he was called, although it is free from the actual renaissance touch, there seem to be indications which point that way, and it forms one of the links which connect the old style with the new, and goes to show that in the development of architectural style no change came quite abruptly.
During the next of the periods into which styles group themselves, namely, that of Elizabeth and James I., there were notable additions made to Derbyshire houses. There is all the beautiful work of the Earl of Rutland at Haddon—of him who came into possession in right of his wife, Dorothy Vernon. Chief among it is the long gallery, which he formed among the ancient walls, pulling down here and adding there, adorning it with handsome panelling and a fretted ceiling, all ornamented with his own arms and those of his wife. There are Hardwick Hall, and Barlborough; the remains of Swarkeston in the extreme south, and Sudbury in the south-west, not to mention numerous manor houses scattered all over the county.
Hardwick Hall is, in some respects, one of the most interesting of Derbyshire houses. It is an excellent example of the stately and symmetrical planning which was much in vogue in the days of Elizabeth, and it has survived without any serious alterations, except such as were necessary for the comfort of modern life. Haddon has not been obliged to submit to this test, and therefore retains even more of its original flavour; but Hardwick illustrates vividly the large ideas and the desire for magnificence which dominate much of the design of that period. Moreover, it retains what very few of its contemporaries can boast of—its entrance gatehouse and garden walls. The builder was the renowned Bess of Hardwick, one of the great Elizabethan builders, a worthy rival of the Cecils and Hattons. She claims on her monument in All Hallows’ Church, Derby, to have built Hardwick, Chatsworth, and Oldcotes; but the last-named has disappeared, and Chatsworth has been rebuilt, leaving this house as her sole monument. The legend runs that so long as she kept building she would not die, but that a long frost occurring while she was engaged upon Bolsover, the men were obliged to desist from their work, and thereby struck the knell of their mistress. But we have already seen that Bolsover was the work of her son, and that it was not begun until six or seven years after her death.
The work at Hardwick presents the most complete contrast to that at Bolsover. There everything had to be restricted to the narrow limits of the old site; all the work is carefully designed, and much of it delicately executed. Here the arrangements are far from compact, and the detail is coarse. No particular ingenuity has been exercised. The staircases are merely flights of steps, without any of the charming balustrades and newel-posts which adorn most Elizabethan staircases. The windows are so overdone in order to produce a striking external effect, that many of them are mere shams, and never were anything else, while others have a floor going across them, and light one storey with their lower lights and another with their upper. But it is just these points which lend interest to the place, and show how everything had to give way to the prevailing passion for symmetry.
There are some fine rooms on the top storey: the presence chamber, with a deep frieze of modelled plaster exhibiting a variety of hunting scenes; the library, with a charming relief over the fireplace of Apollo and the Muses; the long gallery, a characteristic apartment of the age; and a room called after “Mary Queen of Scots,” but bearing the date 1599, which was twelve years subsequent to her death. It is true, however, that Mary was placed for some years under the custody of the Earl of Shrewsbury, who was husband of Bess of Hardwick (her fourth venture), and it is also not improbable that the wife was inclined to be jealous of the influence which the royal captive obtained over her husband.
The documentary evidences of Mary’s long period of custody are copious; they afford no suggestion of her visiting Hardwick, but she was on several occasions at Bess’s other great house at Chatsworth. Moreover, the true dates of the second hall at Hardwick make the Queen’s sojourn here an impossibility. The date usually assigned to Hardwick Hall is 1576, but the dates actually appearing in the house are 1588, 1597, and 1599, all subsequent to Mary’s death. The parapet is ornamented with Bess’s initials, E.S., and a coronet.
In front of the house which Bess built lie the ruins of that in which she was born. This, also, must have been a good house, but one of the older manor-house type, and not conforming to the new and fashionable order of things. Nevertheless, it was adorned from time to time to suit the prevailing fancy, and both it and its more splendid offspring flourished side by side for many years. It offers another example of the fact that so strong was the desire among those who could afford it to build afresh in the new style, that in many instances houses built in Henry VIII.’s time were either rebuilt in Elizabeth’s or, as here at Hardwick, were suffered to remain and to add point by their modest dimensions to the extent and splendour of the newer dwelling.
At Hardwick, the old custom of building round a court, which we have met with at Haddon and Wingfield, was abandoned; the idea of adopting defensive precautions had no part in its arrangement—it was frankly intended for display and cheerfulness. But the courtyard still survived up and down the country, although rather for convenience than for defence. In some cases it became so contracted as to be little more than a well, admitting a modicum of light and air. Such contracted courts are both cheerless and insanitary, especially when they were made the meeting place of the household drains; and in many instances they have been roofed over in modern times and incorporated into the house itself.
Barlborough, in the north-east corner of the county, is a case in point. It is a house with an interesting plan, being almost square in shape, yet contriving to obtain the kind of rooms and the general disposition which were usual at the time. The effect is quaint, especially as the octagonal bays are carried up above the roof to form turrets. The small central court has been converted into a staircase. The builder was Francis Rodes, a judge, like many of the builders of Elizabethan houses. It is almost contemporary with Hardwick, as it was built in 1583–84. It bears its date on the pedestal of the pillars flanking the front door, and students of by-gone architecture cannot be too thankful to the old masons for having dated their work so frequently as they did. Nor is our gratitude less for the fashion which made heraldry one of the chief sources of ornamentation. No doubt the display of arms and badges was a weakness of the worthy people of that age. It is even conceivable that men who achieved their own fortunes, as many did under Elizabeth, unduly emphasized their ancient descent, and occasionally recorded as facts what really were surmises. But anyone who has spent time in ferreting out the history of an old house is very willing to condone this foible in return for the clues with which it furnishes him.
Far be it from us, however, to throw any doubt on Francis Rodes’s heraldry; it serves to fix beyond a doubt who was the builder of Barlborough. In the drawing-room is a handsome, lofty chimney-piece, which is quite characteristic of the times. It displays the arms and the effigies of Francis Rodes and his two wives, and is dated 1584. There seems to have been no hesitation in those days about second marriages. Whatever poets may have said about the marriage of true minds, and the lasting passion of one man for one woman, neither man nor woman forbore from marrying again and again, nor did they conceal from the later spouses the charms and the arms of the earlier. Here, for instance, on this chimney-piece are the arms, the name, and the office of Francis Rodes set forth at large, and below are two other shields with his arms impaling severally those of his two wives, each shield being supported by a representation of himself and the wife whose arms are impaled. To remedy any defect in the sculptor’s portraiture, or for the benefit of future generations who knew not the ladies in the flesh, their names are legibly printed at their sides—“Elizabeth Sandford,” “Maria Charleton.”
So far, all the houses mentioned have been of considerable size or well-established fame; but scattered about the county, in small villages or among the dales or on the hill-sides, are numerous manor houses, the homes of the small gentry or of the well-to-do yeomen. There are some of these near Hathersage, several of which belonged to various branches of the family of Eyre. North Lees is one, in a retired situation and falling to decay, at least so far as its decoration is concerned; one deserted room still retains some of its panelling and a fretted ceiling. Its stone walls, mullioned windows, and bold chimneys lend an air of romance to the house half-hidden among the trees. Highlow Hall is another of the group, chiefly notable for the quaint gateway which leads to the entrance court. Not far away is Offerton Hall, now a farmhouse, but an excellent example of the planning and simple architectural treatment of a small house of the early seventeenth century. Near Matlock is Snitterton Hall, the remains of a rather more considerable house, with remnants of a lay-out, and with many of its contemporary farm buildings. These are but a few of those which might be named, and the wanderer in out-of-the-way places will often be rewarded by the discovery of these links with the past.
There is no notable example within the county of the work of the later seventeenth century, of the time rendered famous by Inigo Jones and Sir Christopher Wren. But of the period which succeeded them, when the rules of classic architecture were firmly established, and spontaneity in design had given way to propriety, there are one or two specimens. Of these the most characteristic is Kedleston. This great house was designed in the grandest manner of the time. It was to have had a large central block, with four outlying pavilions attached to it by curved colonnades, but two of the pavilions were never built. This place well illustrates the prevalent method of designing mansions. The principal floor was devoted to functions of state, and is occupied by large and lofty apartments, far too huge for comfort. They resemble apartments in some large public building. The family rooms are tucked away in a basement beneath the state apartments. It was the fashion of the age. Architecture was chiefly a means for display; the noble conceptions of the architect left his clients with scarce a comfortable corner for themselves. The surroundings of the house are also characteristic. It is itself placed in a somewhat haphazard position, backed by a range of trees; the stables are concealed by trees, and approached by a covered way; in the park is a bridge, so placed as to group in a casual way with the house: the whole idea being to obtain a pictorial effect, without any consideration for convenience of approach or convenient arrangement when the house is reached.
Such were the tours de force of the times, when wealth helped, and there were no restraining conditions; when the architect had a free hand to design, and the client another to pay. But in cases where the opportunities were more limited, the results were more reasonable, and such houses as Foremark are quite satisfactory. They have not the sparkle of their predecessors, it is true, but they combine dignity with comfort. Calke Abbey, lying hidden amid its ancient woodlands, is another fine example of the time.
There are not a few good specimens of formal gardens in the county. Haddon has terraced gardens which hardly receive the attention they deserve, so much is the interest of the visitor absorbed by the house. Eyam Hall, in the village rendered famous by the heroism and energy of its rector during a visitation of the plague, has a simple lay-out of walls and steps and formal paths. Locko rejoices in terraced gardens judiciously laid out, and resulting in admirable though simple effects. But the finest gardens are at Melbourne, in the south of the county, where stately vistas cross each other and give distant glimpses of urns or statues, which themselves are worth careful inspection when at length they are reached. The effect is increased by placing some notable feature, such as a fine vase, at the meeting of several avenues; seen thus again and again from unexpected points, it adds to the apparent extent and intricacy of the lay-out. There is a long walk completely tunnelled over with dense yew hedges, and down in the bottom is a placid pool where sportive cupids play.
Such is a brief glance at some of the more noteworthy houses of the county; others there are waiting for the explorer to discover, as he will do in almost any expedition he can make, whether it be among the pasture land of the south, or the more bleak and invigorating hills which culminate in the wild plateau of Kinder Scout.