Author: Lorraine

Lost Houses of Derbyshire – Bretby Castle

By Maxwell Craven Like its Domesday Book twin, Newton Solney, Bretby is a total delight to visit, although much smaller and more sequestered, despite its closeness to the sprawling outer suburbs of Burton. Taking Bretby Lane out of Winshill one rises up onto the undulating higher ground south of the Trent and turns right into Mount Road, past the substantial walls of William Martin’s Bretby Farm and then left into the village. A few yards along on one’s left is a grassy triangle, at the apex of which stands the delightful St. Wystan’s Church, designed as a replacement for an ancient predecessor by T H. Wyatt for the Earl of Carnarvon of Bretby Hall and completed in 1877. This preceding church, always a chapel-of-ease to the Priory Church at Repton, had started off as the domestic chapel of the original great house at Bretby, now usually referred to as Bretby Castle. The origin of this house  however, is far from straightforward. The land had come into the hands of William I from those of Earl Algar of Mercia as a result of the Conquest, but Domesday fails to tell us who his tenant was at Bretby. However, there is a moated site surviving higher up nearby which may represent the timber motte and bailey castle of whomsoever it was. By the later 12th century Bretby was held by the de Kyme family, of whom Philip de Kyme, in around 1210, granted it to Ranulph, 4th Earl of Chester, who was already lord of a major portion of Repton.   Chester’s presence may, however suggest that the earlier moated site, if in fact a former small castle, was an adulterine one (that is, built without Royal Authority like the castles at Repton, Derby and Gresley) put up in a hurry when Ranulph’s grandfather, 2nd Earl of Chester, was trying to take advantage of the civil war between King Stephen and the Empress Matilda to pursue his separatist ambitions. Either way, the Earl did not hold on to Bretby for long, but at some date prior to 1228 granted it to Stephen de Segrave of Seagrave (sic), in Leicestershire, the manorial estate consisting of two manors, Bretby Collet and Bretby Preposita. The Segraves had a perfectly good house already, so probably used the estate at Bretby for hunting and indeed, husbandry, for Nicholas de Segrave was granted a right of free warren (for harvesting rabbits for the table) by Edward I in 1291. There must have been a change of heart by the time his son John succeeded for, in 1301, he was granted a licence to crenellate a house there – that is, to build defensive walls – and it is a reasonable inference that this marked the beginning of Bretby Castle. The site lay on rising ground between Mount Road to the west and Knight’s Lane on the ridge to the north: an ideal, well drained south facing slope. Indeed if, having gone to visit the church, all you need to do is to stand at its NE angle and look across the considerable field, appropriately called Castlefields, and observe the large number of bumps, undulations and irregularities in the grass.  It is unfortunate that we have no picture of the old house, but fortunately, when the present Bretby Hall was being built to the designs of Sir Jeffry Wyatville in 1813, Charles Burton, the agent to the then owner, the 5th Earl of Chesterfield, was sent to dig out the foundations, which were extensive and substantial enough to be worth getting out and re-using in the foundations of the new house, itself a replacement for the great Classical house, allegedly by Inigo Jones, which the 1st Earl had built from 1610 and which I described in these pages in January 2017. Stephen Glover quotes Mr. Burton that, ‘on taking up the foundation of the castle walls’ found that it was ‘a building of great strength and consisted of two large courts’ – in other words it was a typical two courtyard defended house, undoubtedly of local Keuper Sandstone (there are two nearby quarries) of the sort that survives, in much grander form, at Haddon. For a knightly family, a two-courtyard house was de rigueur. Indeed, it probably had a close affinity with Norbury Manor as built, being contemporary and, as we discovered when I manged to persuade the National Trust to do a ground-penetrating radar archaeological survey in 2009, also built round two courtyards, although  the original building (also once physically attached to the impressive church) has mostly gone, only the eastern range of the upper courtyard surviving. Archaeology seems to confirm that the house was moated (traces of the moat remain and the fourteenth century was the prime period for moat building for domestic purposes) and its lower court was without doubt entered via a stout defended gatehouse on the south side, like that which survives as Barton Blount (and later incorporated by Thomas Gardner into the Cromptons’ new house there).   Indeed, one might  well have expected such a house from John de Segrave, for he had been summoned to Parliament as 1st Lord Segrave in 1295 and later been appointed King’s Lieutenant in Scotland, being in 1314 taken prisoner at the Battle of Bannockburn for his pains. And although the church had been vested by Lord Chester in Repton Priory, it almost certainly was physically attached to Segrave’s new house as a chapel.  John, Lord Segrave left only a daughter and sole heiress, Elizabeth, who married John Mowbray, who succeeded as 3rd Lord Mowbray in 1361. As Mowbray, whose son rose to be created Duke of Norfolk, was well fitted out with large houses, it would seem that the Segraves’ great mansion at Bretby ceased to be lived in permanently from this time and was perhaps used only in the winter for the hunting. John Mowbray, 3rd Duke of Norfolk, certainly signed various legal documents from Bretby so the house was still in occasional use.  This

The Beauty Report – Pixi

FortifEYE Hydrogel Eye Patches £22  These luxurious eye patches in a hydrogel format adheres to skin easily to deliver essential nutrients to the delicate eye area. The FortifEYE Hydrogel patch instantly firms and lifts while infusing the delicate eye area with hydration. DetoxifEYE water-based gel-form patch depuffs and revives skin with maximum hydration.  Glow Tonic Serum £26  Designed to hydrate and nourish your skin. This lightweight serum infuses your skin with beneficial nutrients while setting the stage for the final phase of your daily routine. A little serum goes a long way, with only a few drops of the powerful formula needed to achieve a balanced and radiant complexion.  Glow MudCleanser £26  A deep pore cleansing mud, enriched with glycolic and soothing botanicals. Formulated to provide effective cleansing, yet is mild enough for all skin. Complexion is cleansed and gently exfoliated to reveal radiant and healthy skin.  Can be used AM and PM.   Softens and refines skin while restoring radiance.  Features an ultra-lightweight formula.  Includes exfoliating Glycolic Acid to purify skin and enhance your natural glow.  Energises skin and improves circulation with Ginseng.  Soothing hydration is provided with added Aloe Extract.  Suitable for all skin types  Not tested on animals  For more information and to buy online visit www.pixibeauty.co.uk FortifEYE This was a new experience for me, the patches were so beautifully cooling and relaxing. I found them just a little slippery to use, but after a week my skin felt much improved and dry lines were disappearing. I’ll definitely continue with these. JP  Glow Tonic Serum You only need one drop of this serum to gently massage into your face. It is quite thick but quickly melts into the skin revealing a lovely glow.  VP Glow Mud Cleanser Gentle enough to use everyday. From the first use it gently ex-foliates your skin and leaves skin feeling clean and looking fresh. One of the best cleansers I’ve used. CB 00

Dining Out – Yassou Greek Kitchen, Little Eaton

We are huge fans of shared eating so Yassou suited us down to the ground and evoked memories of dining at restaurants over in the Dodecanese, especially the historical ‘capital island’ Rhodes.  The huge contrast was that we set off on a freezing cold evening with coats and scarves on,  rather than in the gentle balmy evening heat decked in T-shirt and shorts. But, as they say, you can’t have everything!  Situated on Alfreton Road (B6179) running through Little Eaton, Yassou is an easy place to access from the A38 Little Eaton roundabout. Having parked outside on the main road we entered the warm inviting entrance and were soon immersed in the gentle strains of the traditional Greek folk music, which set the scene for the evening. In the short time Yassou has been open it was clear to see that they have built up a nice reputation based on presenting traditional Greek dishes prepared and cooked from scratch.  Zoe welcomed us and after supplying us with drinks, chatted about the restaurant and how it was very much a family affair with David the Greek chef cooking healthy Mediterranean dishes in a simple traditional oven. David and Zoe are business partners and own the restaurant. Family members each play their part. A lot of the inspiration for  the menu comes from Dave’s mum Zafiro – or Rula as she’s called in this country. Zoe’s sister works in the kitchen, the chefs son washes pots and the waiting staff are sisters/cousins. It’s a real family and team effort.  It’s been quite a while since we were in Greece, and apart from thinking Moussaka and dips we had to dig deep to remember our nights in the Greek Tavernas. Zoe however was there to recommend some of the most popular dishes, encouraging us to order a few from the menu which she would bring to the table as they came out of the oven. You have to remember that you’re not just ordering your dish, but dishes that can be shared by the rest of your friends similar to Spanish  Tapas.   Pitta is a staple diet in Greece so its not a surprising that this came to the table first when we ordered it with our selection of  dips, from which we chose Sweet Chilli Hummus (mildly spicy with chilli flakes and feta), Melitzanosaltava (rustic Greek aubergine with garlic, lemon juice and olive oil)  and our third dip  Hummus (Chickpeas blended with Tahini, lemon and garlic).   The menu made me smile as it said clearly at the top…“All our Mezze plates come out of the kitchen as and when they are ready”. Good, we like that too, no rushing just a very relaxed evening, with plenty of opportunity for good conversation and gentle humour in true Greek style in between. With pitta bread, dips, a bowl of olives  and some Halloumi fries served with a sweet Chilli sauce, we were on our way.  Closely followed by Kalamari, Cajun fried crispy squid served with garlic mayo.  Zoe recommended the Moussaka; layers of finely minced meat, aubergine and potato layered with Bechemel sauce, a pleasant contrast to the squid.  Arriving with a generous number of chicken pieces on the skewer was the Souvlaki chicken. Tender marinated chicken char-grilled and interspersed with peppers and red onion, served with Tzatziki. The best choice for both of us!  As you can imagine the evening was moving on and we were pretty full by now, so decided to share a dessert which we tucked into ….and then remembered we should have taken a photograph, oops sorry! However  the Lemon tart which was homemade with a rich buttery pastry, a tangy filling and came with Greek Yoghurt and honey, was delicious.  The thing is we have left ourselves plenty of choice for our next visit, Stifado, Soutzoukka, Pikilia or Chicken Gyros to name but four  or maybe try the evening special. Next time we will take along a couple of friends as this is the place to chat, drink and graze.  Booking really is important as it isn’t a large restaurant and when we left there wasn’t a spare table to be had. Open Wed – Friday: 17:00 – 22:30, Saturday: 16:00 – 22:30  Telephone 07368 483725    yassou-greek-kitchen@hotmail.com 00

Walk Derbyshire – A Walk to the Bull Ring at Snitterton

By Rambler Before I begin my description of this walk, I must put in an explanation of what I mean by Bull Ring.  First and foremost I have no intensions of sending walkers all the way down the A38 in order to walk round Birmingham’s busy Bull Ring commercial district.  The bull ring (notice the use of lower case ‘b’ and’ ‘r’), we are referring to is a four or five inch iron ring set in a flat low stone in the corner of a tiny roadside green at Snitterton village near Matlock.  Its original purpose was to tether a bull as part of the barbaric so-called ‘sport’ of bull baiting by teams of dogs, a practice banned in 1835. The walk starts and ends on Matlock Bridge, near to which is currently the site of an extensive flood prevention scheme.  The work involves the use of a massive crane that currently dominates the town centre skyline.  The crane has become such a popular item, that a fund-raising competition to give it a name was arranged – the winning title was (drum roll), ‘Liftymacshifty’. From the bridge and its interesting civil engineering works, the walk leaves the main road where it bears left.  Continuing forward, the way is past a wine merchant’s warehouse and over the railway bridge. Continuing forwards and steadily uphill through a small farmyard, steps lead to a stile giving access to a path climbing steeply towards a wood next to a tree shaded house. Across its access drive and through the belt of trees, the way then continues uphill on a field path heading towards a farm.  A right had turn on the farm lane and then almost left through a kissing gate  opposite leads on to another path bearing half right and then uphill beside a hedge in order to reach another track.  Here a right hand turn takes the walker past a welcoming seat with a delightful view over Matlock, an ideal place for a rest. Slightly to the right above the seat, a field path continues to climb the hillside, then crosses a farm lane. Beyond the far side of the lane, a level path crosses meadowland, past two old stone barns until it reaches a five-way path junction. Taking the second path to the right of the one you are on, walk beside a stone boundary wall to reach a narrow road – this is Salter’s Lane once used by teams of packhorses carrying salt from Cheshire onwards to North Sea fishing ports. Across the road, a signposted path leads to a five-way junction of paths, and then downhill to Jug Holes, an abandoned lead mine.  Swinging left from the mine, we follow the path downhill and then right at a cottage to Leawood Farm.  Its access lane leads downhill into the attractive hamlet of Snitterton. This is where in the corner of a small roadside green marked by a wooden seat the bull ring can be found, set in a flat low stone next to the road. The road makes a tight right hand bend beyond the ring; follow it for about 100yards and then go left through a stile. Ignoring a path leaving to the left, the walk continues forwards as far as the road which is joined almost opposite a minor side lane.  Follow this lane, to the right, almost as far as the river. Turn right along its bank and continue over a series of meadows until the path reaches a factory producing macadam blocks, the shaded riverside path continues all the way back into Matlock and its bridge. USEFUL INFORMATION: A moderate walk of 4½ miles (7.25km) on field and riverside paths. One steep uphill climb at the start of the walk. Good views of the Derwent valley as it curves away to the hills and moors of the Dark Peak. Muddy sections of the riverside path, especially in wet weather. RECOMMENDED MAP: Ordnance Survey Explorer Map Sheet OL24, 1:25000 scale The Peak District – White Peak area. PARKING: Roadside to the right above Sainsbury’s petrol station, although all day pay and display parking can usually be found in the riverside car park on the Matlock Bath side of the railway bridge over the A6. PUBLIC TRANSPORT:  Rail from Derby.  Bus from Derby or Ripley. REFRESHMENTS: Pubs and cafes in and around Matlock town centre. THE WALK STEP BY STEP The walk starts at Matlock Bridge.  Cross it and walk on beyond the road junction opposite.  Continue over the railway bridge and then onwards and upwards to a farmyard. Climb the stone steps next to the farm house and go through a stile to enter a field. Climb the steep grassy path directly uphill until it reaches the lane to a large house.  Cross this lane and walk through a small belt of trees. Climb the stile at the far side of the trees and then follow a path alongside a hedge. Swap sides with the edge and continue uphill towards a farm. Cross the farm’s access drive by going right and left as indicated by the position of two stiles. Walk uphill diagonally half right, crossing the line of a mature hedge. Continue uphill, the path now bearing half left to reach a tumbled down wall; (hopefully the wall may be repaired in the near future and a stile restored).  Cross the rough farm lane immediately below the wall. Directly opposite, the twin stones of a squeezer stile in a dense hedge give access to a level path crossing a series of meadows marked by two abandoned stone barns. Where the path reaches a five way path junction, take the second path on your right. Go down to and cross Salter’s Lane, part of the old Saltway between Cheshire and the east coast. Begin to go downhill, steeply at first, then bear left next to the lower entrance of Jug Holes Mine (lead). From the mine go directly downhill for a short distance to link with a

Places Pevsner Forgot – Hardstoft & Astwith

Hardstoft and Astwith lie atop a pair of west-east ridges, with the Dawley stream rising in between and running down to the Doe Lea, above which towers Hardwick old and new halls, which visually dominate both hamlets from the east. We first made the acquaintance of Hardstoft around 1980, when, with my colleague Mick Stanley and his wife, we were moving about the county looking at the country houses whilst preparing the first edition of The Derbyshire Country House. After visiting Newton Old Hall at Tibshelf, we headed north but needing lunch, stopped at the Shoulder of Mutton, Hardstoft, which lies at the end of a row of 18th century cottages on Deep Lane, leading off the B6039 towards the heart of the hamlet. Then, the pub was a fairly run-of-the mill local one, and if Pevsner saw it in 1951 he perhaps did not require a pint and a sandwich and pushed on in blissful ignorance of the delights of the invisible settlement, in which case he missed a treat, albeit a gentle, unassuming, one. Yet it is not without interest, as there are two listed buildings in Hardstoft and one in the adjacent but far more sequestered hamlet of Astwith. The name commemorates one of those Norse settlers of the ninth century whose name is found nowhere else in the annals of the English Danelaw for it means ‘HjÇ«rtr’s farmstead’, in contrast to Astwith, which is also a Norse derived name but means merely ‘east clearing’. Both are part of the parish and manor of Ault Hucknall, held by Steinulf of Calow under Norman grandee Roger de Poitou in Domesday Book (1086) and, from the 16th century, if not before, were long part of the Hardwick Hall estate. Indeed, when the late Duke of Devonshire gave Hardwick to the National Trust in 1950, the Chatsworth estate quite probably retained the working part of the estate, less whatever the Trust required as an endowment. So much for history: we started at the pub which, we were amused to see, had dumbed down its name to The Shoulder, which, let’s face it, sounds more like a painting by Salvador Dali – odd, even in the context of pub names. It is the end element of a row of three 18th century double fronted estate cottages built, like most houses in the two hamlets, of Coal Measures Sandstone, but with most engaging paired chimneystacks with chamfered angles in 18th century brick – no doubt a conceit of the Hardwick estate foreman of the time. We were able to trace the inn back to the 1820s, but it may well have flourished before that. From the early 19th century until the First World War, it was run by the Clay family, several of which were called Sampson; after the war the Tagg family took over for a couple of decades at least. Nevertheless, it was pleasant within and welcoming, and our modest requirements were met with creditable aplomb.  We then set off along Deep Lane, which runs from the main road towards the heart of the settlement but turned off right along Farm Lane, a tributary running off it, parallel to the main road and behind the inn with its attendant buildings. At its south end this afforded excellent views south to Biggin Lane and over a declivity in which stood a white painted former farmhouse called Whitton Lodge, about which we were able to discover little other than it is now a roomy holiday let. It boasted a good cartshed or barn, now converted. A much more unspoilt seventeenth century farmhouse lay on the east side of the lane with Hardwick Old Hall across the valley seeming almost within touching distance. The fenestration had been modernised, but otherwise it was charming and largely original; how it escaped listing we couldn’t work out.  Further east, on Deep Lane, The Green presented us with a group of engaging stone houses and farms with a neat row of cottages bookended between two of them. Slightly north, was The Yews (alternatively Yew Tree Farm), another farmhouse, one of Hardstoft’s listed buildings, under restoration and empty when we saw it. Historic England reckons it’s mid-18th century, but we reckoned that, with its paired mullioned lights and elegant simplicity it could be late 17th century with an extension to the east. It was probably amongst the buildings on The Green that much of the working life of the hamlet took place, for in 1827 one William Haslam is listed as a gunsmith there and a succession of William Halsams continued the tradition of white-smithing into the 20th century and latterly as ‘hot water engineers.’ Indeed, George Haslam was still pursuing this trade in 1928. There was also a shoe and boot maker, estate gamekeeper and, on the main road further north, the New Inn (a beerhouse long closed) and a school.  One of the most notable craftsmen to have graced Hardstoft was Joseph Kirk (1681-1735) who made exceptionally fine clocks, including one at Hardwick and another in a chinoiserie lacquered case. He seems at first to have been based here, but later signed clocks from Nottingham (eg. that in Derby Museum’s Prince Charlie Room) and latterly from Skegby, where his London-trained father, John, had also lived latterly, where he died. A Kirk clock made in Skegby was sold from Chatsworth a decade or so ago, and he also made the stable clock there which survived to be transferred into James Paine’s new, bravura, structure in the 1750s. The old directories mention that the Wesleyan Methodists once had a chapel here, although we couldn’t work out which building it had occupied, but the school, founded as a Church of England School in 1858 (and so dated) lies on the main road between Deep Lane and Astwith Lane.  Built of hand-made brick and stone dressings, it has a steep gabled portico with the date, and a bell turret. This pretty little building with its iron railing, long derelict,

Haddon Hall – A Sleeping Tudor Beauty

by Brian Spencer “What we see today is basically the unaltered fortified manor house developed between the late 12th century, and 1620 when the last and minor ‘improvements’ were made” One autumn evening a few decades ago, driving home along the A6, just short of the entrance to Haddon Hall I was stopped by a police barrier, complete with bollards and flashing blue lights.  Unable to see any problems ahead or behind, I sat there and waited for developments.  The answer soon became clear when a large black car drove quickly past and turned left into the hall’s entrance.  As the car overtook me, I got a glimpse of its passenger, the then young Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales.  Apparently, he and his sister Princess Anne used the castle when visiting Derbyshire and needing overnight accommodation they slept amidst Tudor grandeur!  Their signatures together with that of their grandfather HRH King George V, are etched in the plaster above a small fireplace in the Earl’s Apartment.  That their visit must be a privilege no one could deny, but who would turn down the chance of staying in this romantic relic of time gone by. What we see today is basically the unaltered fortified manor house developed between the late 12th century, and 1620 when the last and minor ‘improvements’ were made.  Throughout that time Haddon Hall was owned by only three families, the Avenels, the Vernons and the Manners.  It was the Avenels from Northamptonshire who built the original house, and it was lived in permanently until the Manners more or less abandoned it when Sir John Manners, 9th Earl of Rutland was created the 1st Duke of Rutland in the early eighteenth century, and the family moved to the much grander Belvoir Castle, leaving Haddon Hall suspended in time.  Before that time, Haddon had been owned by the Vernons for ten generations between 1262 and 1514 with Sir George Vernon’s legendary parties which could last for weeks, earning him the title of ‘King of the Peak’.  His daughter Dorothy Vernon became the best known female family member.  When she eloped with Sir John Manners by crossing the pack horse bridge below the house, her escapade laid the foundations of another legend; romantic though it may be, the trouble with it is that the bridge did not exist at that time. However, one way or another, she did marry Sir John Manners, and so the Manners dynasty are still the owners of Haddon.  For almost three centuries Haddon Hall remained empty and almost but not quite unloved until the 10th Duke opened the house to visitors.   Little is known about the origins of Haddon, but there seems to have been a small manor house based on Saxon foundations either on the site of the present building, or nearby. The estate on which it stood stretched almost as far as Sheffield.  Together with farming and lead mining, from entries in the Domesday Book of 1086 it sounds as though whoever owned the estate became very rich.  The Avenels acquired the property in the 12th century, originally being tenants of William Peverel, one of King William the Conqueror’s knights. How they managed to expand these interests can only be guessed, but we can assume that their wealth grew by hard work and perhaps more than a little grovelling at the feet of their lord and master, William Peverel.  What we do know is that the first mention of a house and chapel stood on the site and were thought to have been built around the mid-1100s.  This was when it was mentioned in the marriage settlement of Avice Avenel, William Avenel’s eldest daughter, to Richard de Vernon in 1189.  Haddon remained with the Vernon family until it passed to the Manners when Dorothy Vernon married Sir John Manners in 1567, with whose family it has remained ever since. Visitors entering the Haddon estate walk in through the gatehouse away from the car park on the opposite side of the main road. Beyond the gatehouse, the gravelled drive winds its way, over the beautiful River Wye before dividing in front of the excellent café and tea rooms. The   hall sits high above to the right, on an imposing limestone outcrop.  Built from local stone Haddon looks just like the setting for a Sleeping Beauty pantomime. A weathered oak door opens directly on to the gritstone flagged surface of the lower courtyard and in its right hand, south-east corner, the Tudor chapel projects like a bastion on an impregnable fortress wall.   Fading yet still vibrant frescoes line the chapel walls and a jumble of box pews fill what little space the tiny nave can provide.  To one side is the poignant stone effigy of a young boy, nine year old Lord Robert Charles Manners, known as Lord Haddon.  This one is the copy of the sculpture now in the chapel at Belvoir Castle and was carved in 1894 by his grief-stricken mother.  If Lord Haddon had lived, he was destined to become the 9th Duke of Rutland. The sloping gritstone slabbed yard is surrounded by a complex of mysterious doorways and time worn steps.  The first door on the left of the entrance door gives access to a small room where many of the odds and ends found when it became necessary to lift centuries old floors during maintenance work are displayed.  The museum is full of everyday items ranging from a remarkably well-preserved shoe, to a still readable child’s prayer-book.  There are even accounts of worker’s wages, such as what a skilled craftsman was paid for three day’s thatching. Steps on the north-east side of the courtyard lead, on the left, to the kitchens, where the banquets prepared for the enjoyment of Sir George Vernon earned him the title, ‘King of the Peak’.  We can imagine him and his guests warming themselves before a roaring log fire in the nearby Banqueting Hall.  These feasts were legendary, especially when

The Lost Houses of Derbyshire – Hearthcote House, Swadlincote

by Maxwell Craven Hearthcote House was a deceptively ancient and complex building by the time of its demolition in 1980. At first glance, it appeared to be an eighteenth century two storey L-plan brick farmhouse, lit by sash windows both conventional and side opening (the latter usually called York sashes), under cambered heads and with brick string courses in between – all reminiscent of the later Georgian Era. In fact, this external fabric was dated 1793.   The entrance looked plain, too, but showed signs of having once had a stone surround, but at the NW end, there rose a mighty stone built external chimney breast which once rose in stages and which was latterly topped by a brick chimney stack, also in two stages. This feature betokens an early Tudor date or even the mid-to late-fifteenth century and was clearly once attached to a much more ambitious house. Inside, all was not as it seemed, for it was actually box framed in timber, in the style of the mid-17th century, with a particularly interesting oak staircase with balusters tenoned into two posts which ran up the whole height of the house, a feature only paralleled to my knowledge by the 1640s staircase at (not lost!) Sturston Hall, near Ashbourne, also a timber framed house of similar size, later cased in brick (and stucco in this case).  I might add that this important staircase was safely removed from the house prior to demolition in 1979 and stored dismantled with the County Council’s important collection of agricultural machinery at the excellent Working Estate Museum, Elvaston Castle, from which, needless to say, it was subsequently lost when the museum was suddenly closed by the County Council and the collections – including much agricultural material given by the late Lord Vernon – auctioned off. No one has been able to discover its fate, despite efforts by the South Derbyshire District Council heritage officer, Philip Heath.  At the time Domesday Book was compiled, Drakelow and Hedcote are combined as one manorial estate, listed at the head of the list of those held directly from the King by Nigel de Stafford, whose posterity settled here and took the name of another manor, Gresley, as their surname, but they lived at Drakelow until 1933. The name Hearthcote is directly analogous to ‘Heathcote’, meaning the house or domestic property on the heath, and indeed the area is well scattered with names ending in ‘-cote’: Swadlincote, Brizlincote and Chilcote being further examples. The spelling varied wildly, but remained mainly as ‘Heathcote’ until the Stuart period but, by the time Peter Burdett drew his map of the County in 1767, he had labelled   it ‘Hearthcote’ although 19th century directory compilers must have become confused on hearing the name spoken in the local argot, rendering it both as ‘Earthcote’ in 1846 and as ‘Arthcote’ in 1895! It was reckoned part of Stapenhill by 1185 when the place was granted to Burton Abbey, and it may well have had a capital mansion on the site, as the grant included a long vanished chapel, almost certainly a domestic one. Later though, it seems to have reverted to the Gresleys, for Sir John de Gresley granted it to Gresley Priory in 1363.   It was leased by the Prior to the Verdons, one of whom appears to have had a capital mansion here – presumably on the site of Hearthcote House. By 1296, Hearthcote was held from Theobald de Verdon, with Newhall and Stanton (by Newhall), by Robert de la Warde of Upton, Leicestershire. Three years later he was summoned to Parliament as 1st Lord Warde of Alba Aula, which quaint Latin designation probably equated to the appearance of his newly built seat at Newhall and indeed, there was a Whitehouse Farm there until a century ago, having survived Lord Warde’s new seat by several centuries. Also, from that time and for many centuries, Hearthcote, Stanton and Newhall all had the name ‘Ward’ suffixed. The descent of the estate went from his son to Sir Hugo de Meynell and the evidence seems to be that he lived at New Hall and members of his family occupied the secondary houses at Stanton and Hearthcote, but after his male line failed, it passed to the Dethicks and thence through several successive heiress. When Gresley Priory was dissolved in 1536, the estate at Hearthcote was valued by the commissioners at £13 – 6s – 8d (£13.33) the same as Church Gresley, which they also held, suggesting both were then pretty small. The Commissioners sold Hearthcote to the Alleynes of The Mote in Kent, who built Gresley Old Hall, and the house became attached to their estate there, although Hearthcote itself seems to have become an extra parochial liberty of Church Gresley – that is, separate from the main parish and free from shrieval control.  The Alleynes pulled down the old medieval Hearthcote House (probably built around a courtyard) and replaced it with a timber framed farmhouse attached to a stone chimney breast retained from the old house, being strongly built of ashlared stone – waste not, want not! This probably happened after 1597 when Hearthcote was still described in a document as ‘an old howse’.  In 1730 John Alleyne sold the estate, including Hearthcote, to the somewhat egregious Littleton Poyntz Meynell of Bradley, who intended to use it as a shooting box, but his son decided to move to Leicestershire the better to hunt and, in 1775, the Meynells sold it all to the Gresleys, so Hearthcote thereby came full circle. It was without doubt the Drakelow estate that re-cased the old house in brick, and seems to have continued with the three-life tenancy of the Newbold family.  However, change was again on the cards for, in 1828, Sir Roger Gresley, Bt. sold Gresley Old Hall and Hearthcote separately, the latter becoming the property (probably due to the lure of good quality coal being available on the estate) of Stanley Pipe-Wolferstan DL JP (1785-1867),

Images 2023 BIG Quiz

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Dining In Derbyshire – MEZZO, Derby

To the south east of Derby, sandwiched between the River Derwent and the old A6 London Road is a vast area of former industrial land that had been part of the larger railway yards. An ambitious project by Derby City Council has transformed the once derelict area in to a thriving business park. The site now hosts offices, from family run to multi-national retail outlets, glitzy car showrooms, Pride Park Stadium – the home of Derby County FC, a nature reserve and the eye catching Derby Arena. Plus many eateries. One of these restaurants, tucked away on a quiet road in the shadow of the Arena, is Mezzo; our destination for a midweek lunch. Susan and myself were looking forward to lunch with the promise of something a little bit different. It was our first visit to Mezzo and although I’d read and seen online how the food was presented we were still a little unsure. We needn’t have worried. First timers, like ourselves, are nothing new and the helpful staff explained the simple lunchtime procedure. Mezzo’s lunchtime service is a pick ’n’ mix buffet. In place of plates the restaurant uses bowls that can be disposed of in the recycling bin. There are four sizes: from extra small to large. The emphasis is on healthy eating. Everything on the menu is cooked fresh daily and from scratch, using quality natural ingredients. Nothing is bought in pre-made or processed. I picked up a medium bowl and selected the chicken breast. I passed the hot selections and went to the 20 dishes on offer at the cold buffet. With every intention of keeping my bowl looking beautiful I added a large scoop of potato salad and then two scoops of the vibrant green mixed salad; a mixture of peas, broad beans, rocket, mange tout and broccoli. A scoop of red cabbage winter coleslaw filled any gaps I had left. I had avoided the delicious looking dishes of chickpeas and the one of couscous but I found room for a few little extras: pickled gherkins, sliced tomato and sliced red onion. All the dishes are labeled on the glazed guard above the buffet bar. From a selection of dressings including mayo, yoghurt and mint, balsamic plus a honey and mustard, I chose the classic French. Every flavour and texture element of the green salad wasn’t lost; from the crunch of the mange tout to the peppery hit from the rocket. Susan picked up a small bowl and selected the salmon, a generous, plump fillet, and made her selection from the hot trays. She chose the baby new potatoes; unpeeled they were full of flavour. Teriyaki noodles, couscous and wild rice were also available. The latter would have been perfect with the curry that is one of the lunch dishes. Susan topped her dish up with a scoop of mixed vegetables: cauliflower, leeks, peas, carrots, fine beans and cavolo nero. And topped it off with dressing of yoghurt and mint. The combination was traditional, generous and packed with flavour. All of the proteins are cooked naturally; nothing added. My generous portion of chicken breast was steamed. It was moist and full of flavour. Susan’s salmon had been oven baked on a pan fried setting. The fish was flavourful and everything you’d expect: the flesh fell apart in pale pink flakes and a perfect crispy, crunchy skin. Also available are roasted falafel, and griddled halloumi. At a table close to us sat a group of five women wearing fleeces emblazoned with Great Britain Cycling Team. I asked how they were enjoying the Arena and lunch at Mezzo. They all agreed that the food was tasty and, very important to them, healthy. Although there are no desserts, for those of us with a sweet tooth there’s a selection of homemade sweet treats. The generous lunch portions had filled us but we couldn’t leave without any of the tempting chocolate goodies. A large piece of rocky road with shortbread (or is it tiffin?) scattered over with tiny marshmallows and an equally large piece of millionaire’s shortbread where acquired for later. In the evening the buffet style service is replaced with bowls assembled to order. The same tasty, fresh ingredients are put together in the restaurant’s kitchen and look far more elegant than my chicken salad stack! Mezzo was started in 2012 by Skevy and her partner, David. Skevy trained at Richard Corrigan’s Michelin starred restaurant in London and has spent her working career in the hospitality industry. Their philosophy at Mezzo is ‘eat well, love life’ and this is reflected in great tasting food. The restaurant is licensed and offers a range of drinks from flavoured water to beers and wine. Mezzo’s location on Victoria Way is ideal; easy to get to, yet away from the busy through roads and a stones throw from the Derby Arena. There’s allocated parking outside the restaurant. Alternatively, at the rear of the restaurant is the Arena with it’s huge car park. By arrangement you can park there free for 3 hours. Just enter your vehicle registration details on Mezzo’s tablet in the restaurant. The restaurant’s contemporary decor leans towards the industrial with exposed brickwork, large exaggerated filament light bulbs and comfortable seating reminiscent of a vintage American diner. And large windows flood the interior with natural day light. The restaurant is one of a number of small businesses in a row of new retail units. The ‘new build’ allows for easy wheelchair access. At the front of the premises there’s an extensive area dedicated to outdoor seating. The winter months may not be ideal for al fresco dining but the sturdy, clean benches are under a transparent canopy and catch the sun; taking advantage of their south westerly aspect. While we sat and enjoyed our lunch I noticed that there was a brisk takeaway service. For the carry-out the bowls are supplied with a lid and wooden cutlery. Also, you can order online for a local home or

Derbyshire’s National Heritage Corridor

by Brian Spencer  It is wrong to suggest that the Industrial Revolution began in and around the Derwent Valley, but even so the new order was given a massive push forward by the innovations of two mill owners, Richard Arkwright and Jedediah Strutt.  They were, as the saying goes, ‘standing on the shoulders of giants’. Even though there is an older mill in Derbyshire, which operated as a silk mill in Derby (now used as the Museum of Making), in 1771, it was Richard Arkwright who built the first cotton mill in Derbyshire.  From his previous knowledge of the district, he chose the safety of Cromford, well away from the danger of mobs intent on wrecking his invention that was to change the history of cotton spinning world-wide.   In order to fulfil the booming world-wide demand for woven cotton fabrics, it was necessary to develop a speedier method of spinning the raw material brought to England by sailing ships from India and America.  As a young man, Arkwright worked as a barber and wig maker in Preston, his hometown.  He had a keen eye for anything new or needed by the world around him and he soon realised that so far the only alternative to this laboriously slow method of spinning cotton on a hand and foot operated machine was by a slightly more efficient machine that had been developed by James Hargreaves, a fellow Lancastrian.  Called the ‘Spinning Jenny’, but even though it was marginally faster than hand spinning, it didn’t completely answer the problem.  The answer came to young Richard Arkwright when he watched iron-workers feed red hot iron into a system of rollers, each one running slightly faster than its neighbour in order to turn iron ingots into workable strips.   Arkwright experimented with a system which was based on a smaller and faster version of the machine used by the metal workers.  With this he came up with the idea of a system of pairs of vertical rollers, each pair travelling faster than its neighbour.  As anyone who has been in a cotton spinning mill knows, the noise of his machine was deafening, giving already suspicious hand spinners the idea that Arkwright was in league with the devil.  Moving away from Preston, he opened a mill in Nottingham powered by horses, but he soon realised that he had to think on a much larger scale if he was going to gain the full advantage of his new invention.  He needed to run his mill not by horse-power, but by water, giving him a far more satisfactory answer to his problem – which he found near Cromford. From his days as an itinerant barber and wig maker, Richard Arkwright was a regular visitor to the village; here was a plentiful supply of both water and a willing army of workers looking for work as an alternative to the declining lead mines.   The mill system he designed for Cromford was built in four stages over twenty years between 1771 and 1791, close to an existing corn mill.  Ever fearful of coming under attack from those who spun the yarn by hand, his early mills were more like fortresses than work places.  Walk down Mill Road from the A6, and the mill’s walls tower like something out of medieval history – there are no widows along the roadside on what will be level with the ground floor; the only entrance to the mill yard curves inwards to give ever watchful guards the ability to fire their muskets down onto anyone attempting to force the firmly shut gates.  Overseeing all movement in and out, the mill manager lived directly opposite, watching the comings and goings of the workforce, especially anyone coming in late, when they would be fined a day’s pay unless they had a genuine excuse. Water was the essential means of driving the mill and at first this was readily available from a pond behind the Greyhound Hotel.  It was supplied by Bonsall Brook which flows down the Via Gellia and there was also another source of water power which came from beneath the ground.  This was water from a sough which drained lead mines running beneath Cromford Hill.  This water could be diverted or held back when necessary by a complex system of culverts filling what the locals call the Bear Pit.  Unfortunately this was not very popular with the mining fraternity, because whenever the flow of water from the sough was allowed to build up, especially at times of drought, the result was that flooding occurred further back into the mines.  The demand for water increased with the expansion of the number of spinning frames brought into operation. This was supplied by building a weir in the River Derwent behind what became Masson Mill alongside the main road.  The extra water supply came from deepening the Derwent as far back as Matlock Bath.  The only mill not requiring water power was the subsidiary mill Haarlem Mill at Wirksworth.  Being one of the last to be built and away from an easy source of water, it was powered by another innovation – a steam engine. Bringing water power to the mill was not all that was done to alter the appearance of what was originally a tiny village.  Being so far from other areas of population, Arkwright decided to build homes for his employees, many of whom, like those in North Street welcomed the upper room.  These allowed the male member of the family to follow their profession, as a hand and foot operated stocking frame worker.  Arkwright’s sons and grandsons continued to develop Cromford; a school was built at the top of North Street and there was even a cosy lock-up for the occasional criminal.  The Greyhound Hotel was  built to accommodate the world and his son who came to learn how to train their operatives using spinning frames bought under licence from the by now wealthy and knighted Sir Richard Arkwright. Mills