South Wingfield Station – A Lost Beauty
The large, attractive village of South Wingfield no longer relies on mining coal, or producing knitted fabrics for its industries, but has become a quiet dormitory town for the surrounding area. Its one major feature is Wingfield Manor. It was here that Mary Queen of Scots was held captive for several years, all the while and with some justification, complaining bitterly of the smell from the midden directly beneath her bedroom window. It was from here that the abortive Babbington Plot tried to free her, costing its perpetrator his head. About half a mile outside the village, the Midland Mainline railway crosses the Alfreton road. A few yards beyond the railway bridge, a short length of mud covered cobbles leads to a group of abandoned station buildings where the converted station master’s house is now a dual residence, partly hidden in a wild-wood of self-sown trees. This was South Wingfield’s very own station. Until 1967, South Wingfield rail travellers could hop on one of the main line trains stopping at the village station and ride in comfort to do their shopping in Chesterfield and beyond, or Derby and all points south as far as London. Despite the station being designated as a Grade II* listed building, it was deemed unnecessary for this rural part of Derbyshire and was closed in 1967. Express trains still thunder down the Amber Valley and roar through what is left of South Wingfield Station, but nowadays anyone from the village wanting to catch a train going north or south, must travel some distance for the privilege. What was originally called the North Midlands Railway was built by George Stephenson and his son Robert. Funding was initially organised by George Hudson of York, known as the railway king in his short-lived notoriety. During the railway building mania of the mid 1800s, he encouraged investors to put money into his schemes, artificially inflating the value of the railway company shares by paying dividends out of investments rather than profits, a kind of pyramid scheme in its day. When this illegal practice was discovered, Hudson was indicted and sent to prison as a broken and penniless man. Fortunately the plan to build a railway linking Leeds to London by way of Derby was properly funded. So with Derby at the junction of lines from London, Birmingham and Nottingham, the route of the North Midland (later the Midland) Railway was surveyed by George Stephenson assisted by Joseph Locke. Stephenson proposed building the line by using 72 miles of river valleys between Derby and Leeds. This would result in a route designed to mainly carry coal; using gentle gradient; building viaducts and tunnels only where necessary. Although it had the advantage of allowing heavily laden coal trains to run mostly downhill, his route frequently by-passed many large towns such as Sheffield. Connecting them meant building costly branch lines. This led to disagreement between Stephenson and Locke who saw the economic advantages of connecting as many towns and cities as possible along the route, rather than relying on simply carrying coal. Eventually a compromise was reached, just in time to cater for the growing interest in passenger trains, despite the many inconveniences such as travelling in coal wagons. The first train to run along what eventually had become the 73½ mile long railway, left Leeds with suitable Victorian pomp and ceremony on the morning of the 7th of May 1840, with a formal lunch at Derby on arrival at 1.30 p.m., returning to Leeds on time at 6.55 p.m. One part of the ceremonial inaugural run was to formally open Derby Station, then, as now an important junction serving the three lines between London, Birmingham and Leeds. The original Derby Station was designed by the architect Francis Thompson who was commissioned by Robert Stephenson, son of George, to design 24 stations along the Derby to Leeds section of the North Midlands Railway. They were all architectural masterpieces, whether they served a large town or small village. Due to modernising and other schemes in later years, only one survived, it was South Wingfield. Following gradual deterioration and standing empty since its closure over 50 years ago, despite being classified as a Grade II* Listed Building, South Wingfield became what someone described as a ‘maimed beauty, deserving better’, one of the ten most important buildings at risk in the British Isles. In November 2019 a saviour came on the scene in the shape of the Derbyshire Historic Buildings Trust (DHBT), in order to take over South Wingfield Station’s ownership, raise funds, restore the station buildings and find commercial and educational uses for them. With the backing of Historic England, the Architectural Heritage Fund and the local council for Amber Valley, who placed a compulsory purchase order on the semi-ruined building, ownership of the station was transferred to the Derbyshire Historic Buildings Trust. Once over this hurdle, the Trust is beginning to work towards securing full funding for the restoration and adaptation of Wingfield Station. So the trust have begun the massive task of arranging funding for restoring and adapting South Wingfield Station. The plan after removing all the rubbish and invading shrubs and trees, cleaning off graffiti and generally making the building safe and accessible, is to make it available for living history events, telling the story of the station through the recorded memories of those who worked there or travelled from it; arranging bursaries for young people to learn traditional rural craft skills and offering open days for the local community – bringing the station back to life and allowing it to be part of the community once more. Thanks to National Lottery players, funds from The National Lottery Heritage Fund and others, including the Pilgrim Trust Foundation are already generated for the initial work in generally tidying up the site, undertaking surveys, developing plans, consulting with the local community and developing partnerships. An initial development grant of £137,000 from The National Lottery Heritage Fund has been awarded to
Collecting Vintage Fountain Pens
When I was first sent to school it was de rigeur that one wrote in ink with a pen. As six and seven year olds we had cheap dip pens with a ceramic ink-well inserted into our desks, but by the time I reached prep school at ten one had to be equipped with a proper fountain pen along with a bottle of ink from which to refill it. Consequently, I was sent off on my first day in September 1955 with a blue Swan pen and an angular bottle of blue Waterman’s ink. Had I realised it, I should have kept that old pen (which I didn’t really like – I much preferred my friends’ Parker 51s), for vintage fountain pens (those made prior to 1960) are highly collectible. After centuries of writing with goose quills and later, pens with steel nibs dipped in ink, pens with internal ink reservoirs that were filled with eyedroppers called fountain pens slowly came into fashion from the mid-19th century. Yet they were notoriously fickle, routinely leaked and the flow of ink onto the writing surface was uneven. This changed in 1889 when Louis Waterman, an insurance salesman, developed a new type of ink feed that allowed air to flow into the pen as ink flowed out, reducing the number of ink blots and making the ink flow more reliably. Pens were at first of hard rubber but the discovery of Bakelite (followed by celluloid and plastic) made the mass production of such pens simple. Soon, firms like Waterman’s own, Parker, Shaeffer, Wahl-Eversharp, Conway Stewart and others (at first mostly American) began producing pens of increasing quality, and embellishing them with gold nibs, gold or gilt metal inlays and plastic bodies using increasingly diverse surface colourings and patterns. Other fountain-pen manufacturers from this era include Mabie, Todd & Company, whose top model was the Swan, like the one Mama pressed into my hand in 1955, and the Moore Pen Company, whose Maniflex pens (£70 and above today) often had gorgeous tiger-eye bodies. Aiken Lambert made pens with engraved, gilt or silver bodies; Gold Bond and John Holland made pens with equally beautiful plastic bodies; and Wahl ranged from metal to hard rubber, both of which featured Greek key patterns on their handling surfaces; its Doric pens from the 1930s are considered some of the handsomest ever made. The most elite category of vintage pens, include Dunhill-Namiki maki-e (Japanese lacquer). The urushi lacquer barrels were painstakingly decorated with layers of fine gold dust and other pigments, in a time-consuming process by a master artisan. First-rate early examples are notoriously rare, and have sold for over a quarter of a million dollars; a fine such pen was recently sold on E-bay for £138,346. Another prestige firm was German, founded in Hamburg in 1908: the Simplo Filler Pen Company whose Montblanc, with its built-in inkwell has survived the years in production. Montblanc first placed a white tip on the pens’ caps in 1910, this evolving in 1913 into a rounded star. A 1960s Monterosa version was sold at Bamfords for £195. The most collectable pens include the Waterman Ideal No. 52, a lever-filled pen that continued to be made between 1910 and 1934 with a hard rubber (or ebonite) barrel even after other manufacturers started making their barrels out of celluloid, later plastic. The nibs were both flexible and fine. Shaeffer’s were the first firm to turn to celluloid bodies, and used lever filling reservoirs from 1908. Like Conway Stewart, they also pioneered colour effects and overall shape, pioneering a move away from the strictly cylindrical, like their Balance pen. George Parker founded his company in 1888, later inventing a new type of feed called the ‘Lucky Curve’ that returned ink to the sac when the pen was stored, instead of drying in the feed and causing an ink blot when the pen was used again.1921 saw the first Parker Duofold, so named because it was claimed to be twice the pen that any other company could offer. The Duofold was originally available only in red hard rubber (the ‘Big Red’) and was also over-large – almost 51/2 inches long. The other of Parker success was the Parker 51, that was introduced in 1941 – a simple pen with clean lines, a hooded nib, not ornate, but one of the most popular of pens, being made in various degrees of ornament and quality for over thirty years. Prices used from £20 to as much as £300 – with gold trim and original case. We encountered Messrs. Wahl-Eversharp when I wrote about their Eversharp propelling pencils earlier this year. As a result, the firm didn’t begin manufacturing fountain pens until 1917. In 1931 the Doric was released, a twelve-sided pen inspired by ancient Greek architecture, later coming with their adjustable nib. They were later taken over by Parker. There are two areas of collecting, the vintage one (up to about 1960) as discussed here and modern, often limited edition, one, a chancier matter entirely. The two are very separate. In collecting, condition is, as ever, everything, especially with regard to nibs and filling mechanisms. Discolouration is a problem especially with early pens with bodies of hard rubber, bakelite and celluloid. Nibs should not have been bent and straightened. Whilst pens are rarely if ever going to be forgeries (there are reproductions, though but they are usually obvious) well concealed repairs are to be looked for – keep a loop handy. As with most things, the rarer a pen is, the more expensive it will be. Restored pens will command a higher price than pens in need of restoration. Gold nibs and furniture will be pricier than stainless steel and nickel-plated alternatives. Many excellent restored pens can be picked up for around £5-40 whilst for other good quality models you will be looking at £75 to £100 or more. A Parker Duofold Senior, for example, will usually an expenditure of over £160 when in good condition. Even
Lost Houses of Derbyshire – Devonshire House, Derby
A great friend who is the senior caseworker for the Georgian Group, was asked by the City Council to comment on an application to convert the upper floors of 35, Cornmarket into flats. Our own Conservation Area Advisory committee, which until recently I chaired, had already questioned the applicant’s desire to remove the surviving staircase of a building which is the surviving portion of one of Derby’s greatest lost houses, Devonshire House, 34-36 Corn Market. This was where 18th century Dukes of Devonshire would reside when in Derby to preside over the three annual Race Balls and various civic business – bearing in mind that the Dukes were hereditary patrons of the Borough until 1974. In his report, in The Georgian, the house was described as ‘said to have been’ the town house of the Dukes of Devonshire. However, there is no doubt about the identification, for although little seems to have come to light at Chatsworth in the archive, other pieces of evidence confirm the identification of a building that was outwardly intact until 1969, when much of it was heedlessly destroyed in favour of an ugly brutalist Littlewood’s store (now Primark). The origin of the house goes back to the time following the death of Bess of Hardwick, whose last (fourth) husband, George, Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, was the builder of a grand house on the north side of the Market Place, which passed to his elder stepson Charles Cavendish, whose son William later rose to become 1st Duke of Newcastle. This house, Newcastle House was demolished to build Derby’s Assembly Rooms and its tale was recounted in Images for July 2014. The Dukes of Devonshire descend from Charles Cavendish’s younger brother, William, Lord Cavendish of Hardwick and later 1st Earl of Devonshire. A catalogue in Derby Museum asserts that the family town house was built in Corn Market in 1750 and although the catalogue was compiled in the late 19th century, the information was drawn from ‘jottings’ of John Ward FSA which include material dating back to the early 19th century. Tantalisingly, John Speed’s famous map of Derby, in showing the houses on the east side of Corn Market – then a bustling area funnelled out southwards towards St. Peter’s Bridge where grains were bought and sold from raised basins, set up on posts, called stoops – adds a number 25 just behind the position where we know the 1755 house stood. If you look up No. 25 in the key at the bottom, it says ‘Town House’. Could it be that Lord Cavendish even then had an important residence there? The house built in 1755 was in fact a re-fronting job, as early plans reveal three burgage plots on the site and later plans reveal a thoroughly irregular plan suggesting that the work was largely a re-fronting of more than one existing building. The resulting brick façade was very impressive, however, and very Palladian. There were three floors plus attics, and the building was nine bays wide. The ground floor was originally rusticated: that is faced in stone with prominent grooving between the blocks, a typically Palladian conceit, and traces of this appeared during demolition in 1969, as the later shop-fronts were being ripped away. The central three bays broke forward slightly under a pediment itself flanked by a stone coped parapet with recessed panels over the bays and originally without doubt embellished with urns. The bracket cornice below was deeply moulded and the windows on the first and second floors had bracketed entablatures over whereas on the central three bays, the middle windows had segmental pediments those flanking triangular ones. The attic windows were embellished with stone rusticated lintels, wavy along the bottom edge. Originally, the maps and plans inform us that there was a central carriage arch leading to a rather constricted courtyard behind, flanked by two non-matching rear extensions. No record seems to exist of the interior of the house, although there is a passing mention of fine plasterwork, earlier panelling and a fine oak staircase. At Chatsworth a bill survives dated 1777 from William Whitehurst, brother and works manager to John Whitehurst FRS, for a timepiece and case, which an attached voucher identifies as one installed in the kitchens at the Derby house. Probably it was a typical round dial oak cased long case clock, which are very rare as non-striking/chiming timepieces. A very similar one still stands in the almoner’s office at Chatsworth. There were also extensive gardens to the east, stretching to the Morledge and the Markeaton Brook as it swung NE through what is now Osnabruck Square. A stable block and carriage house were attached to close the rear courtyard off. The builder of this impressive occasional residence was William Cavendish, 3rd Duke of Devonshire who died in 1755. The identity of his architect for the house remains a mystery, for although James Paine was working at Chatsworth for the 4th Duke (from 1756), the façade in The Corn Market shows few of his usual conceits and if the 1750 date is correct, it is too early. William Kent had been employed by the same Duke to completely rebuild the fire-wrecked Devonshire House in Piccadilly, but apart from being severe and equally Palladian, there the resemblance ends. Personally, I suspect the house was built and the façade designed by the young James Denstone (five years later the architect of Markeaton Hall) perhaps working under his former master, Solomon Browne, but until some hitherto un-discovered payment vouchers appear in the Chatsworth archive, speculation will prevail. The curly lower edge of the attic story lintels, however, reappear on Leaper & Newton’s Bank (not the Thomas Leaper bar) in Iron Gate and once on the fenestration of the Babington Arms, Babington Lane, demolished in the 1920s. By about 1814, the area in front of the house had become too noisome and insalubrious for the 6th (Bachelor) Duke and, pulling rank as Lord Lieutenant of the County, he thenceforth requisitioned the 1811
Lost Houses of Derbyshire – Mackworth Castle
The stone shell of the gatehouse to site of the ancient seat of the Mackworth family is one of the most memorable sites in the County. Lying only a few hundred yards from the City boundary of Derby, it invariably excites interest from those who see it for the first time, and it has been drawn and painted numerous times by local artists as diverse as Frank Gresley and Ernest Townsend; it was also photographed at a very early date by the ubiquitous Richard Keene. Its picturesque qualities are enhanced by a row of early 18th century brick farm labourers’ cottages, originally thatched, attached to the right. The reason it is called Mackworth Castle is because the name is entirely colloquial, applied to the existing gatehouse simply because it commands a castle-like air in the lane leading through the still largely unspoilt village. Many people actually do not realise that it is merely a rather grand gatehouse behind which once stood the seat of the Mackworth family, although what it was actually called when standing is far from clear – probably ‘the hall’ or similar. In surviving documents it is merely referred to as a ‘capital mansion’ which is fairly typical Medieval legalese for a manor house. What we see today is a two storey three bay Keuper Sandstone crenelated gatehouse with a central depressed arch with ogiform crocketting executed in relief and a hood-mould above it. There are stepped buttresses either side of the central opening and at the angles, an impost band and a cornice below the crenelated parapet which winds round the slender bartizans at the angles and is punctuated by a row of three gargoyle spout heads. The windows were originally traceried, vestiges of which survived by the bricking up of the outer pair. Yet there is neither roof, nor on the north side any wall at all, only two later brick lean-tos put up in the last couple of centuries in order to provide storage for the Regency farm house built behind. Originally there were side rooms with a two-chamber lodging for the gate keeper above, the large room being furnished with a fireplace with a projecting hood, finials and a castellated chimney above. Beside the fireplace is a corbel upon which to place a lamp. Dr. Emery, Britain’s foremost expert on Medieval Country houses is of the opinion that originally there was a rear wall, and visible vestiges of a low pitched roof, their dismantling in the 17th century possibly explaining the appearance of tooled ashlar blocks similar to those still in the building in a lean-to added to the adjoining cottages and to be found elsewhere round about. A closely related gatehouse is that to Worksop Priory, also late 15th century which, although lacking the crenellations (it is today surmounted by what may be a 17th century gable and roof) is of the same general scale, with similarly placed buttresses and windows, although an elaborate traceried shrine to the right of the door relates solely to its religious use. That fronting the North Yorkshire Meynell’s ancient castle at Whorlton is also comparable, although slightly earlier and simpler, with less ornamentation. Yet if this was a gatehouse, built in the third or fourth quarter of the fifteenth century (as its architecture clearly indicates) what happened to the house? A survey undertaken in 1900 identified two house platforms behind the gatehouse, but the reported position of these seems out of kilter with the extant building. More likely the distinct platform on which the present Castle Farm house rests is a more likely site. Here in 1888 some low rubble walling was found suggestive of a timber framed building on a rubble plinth. The inference is that there was a timber framed manor house and a group of the usual outbuildings on adjoining house platforms, raised up to cope with the occasional flooding of the Markeaton Brook, nearby, just as the Medieval stable block of Tudor Markeaton Hall, demolished in 1754, had been. Mackworth family are recorded here at Mackworth from the first quarter of the 13th century. The first of the family to be called ‘de Mackworth’, Philip, was almost certainly a member of the family of Touchet of Markeaton, which included Mackworth, and he and several of his descendants were stewards to the Touchets, especially after they inherited the Barony of Audley of Heleigh, in Cheshire. Several younger sons were also parsons, one being vicar on Longford and another rector of Kirk Langley; a third became a Prebendary of Peterborough Cathedral and Dean of Lincoln. Thomas Mackworth was, on 1st August 1404 the recipient of the earliest datable grant of arms in Derbyshire being allowed, on the authority of his feudal lord, John Touchet, Lord Audley, a shield bearing the arms of Touchet and Audley divided vertically by a jagged line (called dancettée in heraldic jargon) and with a red chevron superimposed bearing gold fretwork. This Tomas, a lawyer and twice MP for Derby, without doubt lived in the timber framed manor house, the vestiges of which were recorded over a century ago in the farmyard of Castle Farm. He also managed to marry an heiress, in Alice, daughter of Sir John Basings of Empingham and Normanton in Rutland and heiress of her childless brother, another Sir John. On Thomas’s death in 1447, he was succeeded by his son Henry, who also held land at Ash (Etwall) and Trusley. Probably in the 1450s, he is thought to have begun improving his estate at Mackworth, starting by erecting the grandiose gatehouse we can still enjoy today, no doubt leaving rebuilding the house itself in matching style (and no doubt of much increased size) until phase two. However, at this stage Sir John Basings the younger died, and Mackworth suddenly found himself unexpectedly possessed of a much larger landed estate in Rutland, and it became clear from surviving documents that he moved there quite soon afterwards. From that moment on, then, all thought of
Lost Houses of Derbyshire – Stuffynwood Hall
One of my oldest friends is a great enthusiast for huge spiky Gothic Victorian country houses. He thinks Samuel Sander Teulon (‘the good ship Teulon’ as he always calls him) a genius who far outshines Wren or Adam and considers Damien Hurst deserving almost of deification for buying and restoring vast, inchoate and sprawling Toddington Manor in Gloucestershire, designed by Charles Hanbury-Tracy, 1st Lord Sudeley, for himself and built between 1819 and 1840. Derbyshire is (in my view) blessedly free of houses like Toddington, or Somerleyton, or Mentmore. Most of our Jacobean is real Jacobean and Victorian prodigy houses have nearly all been demolished. Readers will recall an account of Snelston Hall last year – architecturally the best of them – of Osmaston Manor the year before, and you can still visit Eckington Hall (albeit seized by Sheffield City Council in 1936) in the NE of the County, which is a classic Hollywood ‘haunted house’ of a building. Locko Park although large, is largely Victorian, but harmoniously designed, spread around a fine early 18th century central block, tactfully incorporated. One particularly lumpish example of eclectic Victorian on a fairly epic scale was Stuffynwood Hall which stood just south of Shirebrook and a short distance NW of Mansfield Woodhouse. Built in 1857-58, it is in French Chateau style – French chateau on speed – with a huge, chunky tower behind and a lower wing to one side, like the main house, steep-roofed and prickling with skinny chimney stacks and pop-up dormers. The entire composition was wonderfully asymmetrical, largely over two lofty floors (plus attics), faced throughout in muscular rock-face ashlar of Permian Magnesian Limestone, and with a main block of three bays to the left and another three, wrapped round a vast canted bay with its own hipped roof, to the right. To the right was another two bays, the end one breaking forward with a loggia-like run of six ground floor windows to the right of the entrance, all much lower than the main block, with a service wing beyond again ending in a little pyramidally hipped roofed pavilion with a largish outshut behind beyond which was a large stable block arranged round a courtyard and a further service court to its east. This extraordinarily top-heavy looking house stood in a modest stretch of parkland running to 51 acres, and the entire estate, despite the proximity of numerous coal mines, was well sequestered. The name of the architect has completely evaded my research, but one might expect the culprit to have been a Nottingham man, or even a Chesterfield one. The estate itself was carved out of the manor of Shirebrook, held by a branch of the Meynell family who took the place as their surname, but sub-let most of it to Alan de Stuffyn around 1270, who was the park-keeper of the hunting park of Pleasley, where the Bec family then had a lodge, long vanished. Their park was stocked and emparkation granted by Edward I in 1288. The family were Bishops successively of St. Davids, Durham and (titular) Jerusalem. This Alan is almost certainly to be identified with Alan son of Hugh de Glapwell and grandson of Simon de Pleasley, facts which we can be fairly sure of thanks to the survival of the charters of the Woolhouse family, later of Glapwell Hall. By the middle of the fourteenth century Robert Stuffyn, probably great grandson, was of Shirebrook, and before long his name had become attached to the landscape, when a portion of his estate was called Stuffynwood. John son of Hugh Stuffyn (1615-1695) was the first of the family to be styled ‘gent’ instead of ‘yeoman’. His eldest son, John died aged 55 a year after him without leaving issue and his widow married Gilbert Mundy of Allestree Old Hall. His brothers having predeceased him unmarried, the estate passed to John Hacker of Trowell and by various inheritances and sales to Robert Malkin of Chesterfield. Having never seen an inventory for any of the Stuffyn family, I cannot really assess what sort of or size of house they lived in, but suffice it to say that when Charles Paget, a member of an old Ibstock family lately grown affluent through business, mainly in Nottinghamshire, bought the 300 acre estate from Malkin, there was a modest Georgian house on the site of the hall. The Pagets had intermarried with the Hollins family, who had acquired the Pleasley Mills from that supreme entrepreneur, Henry Thornhill (1708-1790), and thus Charles was keen that his son Joseph should live nearby with a view to taking a hands-on role at the mills. The upshot was the building of Stuffynwood Hall, which was to enjoy a short and really rather unhappy existence. Photographs of the interior have proved elusive, although some may exist in the family papers lodged at the LSE. Fortunately my copy of Leonard Jacks’s account of the country houses of Nottinghamshire (1881) strays over the border here so that he can continue to flatter the Pagets, who also owned Ruddington Grange. He tells us that the house was greatly extended by Joseph Paget from 1873-1880, adding the rear wing, the hulking great tower (complete with skied water tank to improve the domestic economy) and a domestic (Catholic) chapel. Joseph married Helen, daughter of Revd. Edward Abney of The Firs, Derby. He was a great friend of W H Fox-Talbot, the photographic pioneer who was married to a Mundy of Markeaton. They are known to have made Talbotypes of several Derbyshire houses in the late 1840s early 1850s. Abney also encouraged Derby’s pioneering Victorian topographical photographer Richard Keene (1825-1894). Would that we still had any photograph Joseph’s father-in-law might have made of Stuffynwood! Jacks notes that the house boasted ‘large and well-lit rooms, had a separate billiard room with an adjustable frosted glass roof (to let out the fragrant vapours of the contestants’ Havanas no doubt) and that the house was very early fitted with self-generated electricity, hence
Lost Houses – South Wingfield Manor
Some lost houses leave no trace behind, some fragments, some a wing or two incorporated into something else, and some, like the Manor at South Wingfield, end up as a stupendous ruin. Wingfield Manor is just such a stupendous ruin, and one that never fails to amaze me once I go through the gate from the road. Its sheer size brings you up short for a moment, for here is a ruined house that once was as big as Haddon, but taller, as tall as Hardwick, but more spread out. Had it survived to the present intact, it would be a wonder of Europe and a serious rival to houses such as Penshurst. The grandest houses in the 15th century, when most of what you see at Wingfield Manor was built, were constructed around two courtyards, as at Haddon and once upon a time at Codnor Castle. Yet it took from the 12th to the 16th century to complete Haddon as you see it today, whereas the importance of Wingfield is that it was conceived as a whole and built – more or less – for one man within just over two decades. Thus it is an architectural unity, one man’s vision. The other architectural landmark at Wingfield is the seventy four foot High Tower. This, of five storeys, is only the second manifestation in Derbyshire of what one might call “high rise living”, a habit that was to take hold both here and in Nottinghamshire in a big way in the century following, reaching its apogee in houses like Hardwick, Worksop Manor and Bolsover Castle. The predecessor of the High Tower at Wingfield is Prior Overton’s Tower at Repton Hall – now part of the Headmaster’s House at Repton School. It would not be unreasonable to assume that this splendid residence was built for someone of great consequence, and it was: Ralph, 3rd Lord Cromwell, Lord Treasurer of England. The Cromwells were a family of no particular wealth, who had held only dear old West Hallam after the Norman Conquest. Ralph’s enrichment came partly through winning a long legal case in 1439 by which he obtained, as joint-heir, Wingfield and its estate, and partly through what we might term the fruits of office. Sleaze was not then considered de trop! Ralph was clearly an enthusiast for tall buildings, for he built another famous one – which also survives – at Tattershall Castle, in Lincolnshire, but this time, like Prior Overton’s, in brick. In 1441 building work began under John Entrepas, Lord Cromwell having first cleared the site of the ancient house of his predecessors, the de Heriz family and thought to have been built a century and a half before by Roger de Paveley on the site of what might have been an adulterine (i.e., unofficial) 12th century castle dating from the war between Stephen and Matilda. Heriz had also laid out hunting parkland around his house, certainly one to the north which a descendant gave to the Abbey of Darley and rented back, the charter concerning which gives us a clear insight into its extent. Indeed, that document set against the present topography, helped save South Wingfield from an opportunist building an estate of 80 odd houses within it at a recent planning appeal. The little park to the east (now mainly built over) and the huge great park to the south, extending to the Ripley Ambergate Road, were either laid out by the de Heriz family or by Ralph Cromwell. The house itself is built of local stone – Ashover Grit from Crich and Ashover Moor for the best ashlar work the masons, could produce, and Wingfield Flags, a type of Coal Measures sandstone, for the coarser work and the roofing. The High Tower was to house guests and was also put in place as an elevated hunting platform from which the ladies could watch the menfolk at the chase. In winter, this was the only viable way to obtain fresh meat. A second tower, now mainly demolished, was provided at the NE angle to aid people watching the hunt in the northern park. The house was not finished when Cromwell died in 1455, and it passed by sale to John Talbot, 2nd Earl of Shrewsbury, already a major Derbyshire landowner. He managed to occupy it by 1458, so that the entire magnificent structure was completed within 17 years, which was quite an achievement. There are even surviving records of him hunting the parks, and it may well be that he acquired the house and estate specifically for this purpose. It is well known, and hardly bears repeating here, that the estate later passed to George Talbot, 6th Earl of Shrewsbury, the unwilling gaoler of Mary, Queen of Scots – a man who was in the invidious position of being beholden to a jealous Queen: Elizabeth I (and her efficient intelligence network) and a jealous wife: the larger-than-life matriarch, Bess of Hardwick. The Scots queen’s apartments are said to be those one encounters immediately beyond the High Tower. Gilbert Talbot, 7th Earl, the heir, died without a son, so the huge Derbyshire estates including South Wingfield, were split three ways between the daughters and their husbands. Thus one of them, the Earl of Arundel (later Duke of Norfolk) got the house and 1000 acres of park. During the Civil War the house was taken for the King in December 1643 by the ‘Loyall’ Duke of Newcastle, and held by a garrison under Col. Dalby – who undertook a great deal of raiding from there – until well into the year following when, after several fruitless attempts to dislodge them, Sir John Gell, the county Parliamentary commander, managed to borrow some seriously superior ordnance, breach the walls and re-take the house. After the war, the Duke of Norfolk sold the house – which, apart from bombardment damage had been partly dismantled on the orders of Parliament in 1646 – to his steward, the Cumbrian Immanuel Halton FRS.
Lost House – Derwent Hall
Architect Joseph Aloysius Hansom undertook the work of creating an Elysium amongst the dark hills above Derwent. Next time you turn on the tap, you might spare a thought for poor old Derwent Hall. This interesting and distinguished house disappeared slowly beneath the waters of Derwent Reservoir between summer 1943 and 1945, when the last vestiges of its half-demolished shell finally disappeared beneath the waters. The culprits were the combined water authorities of Derby, Nottingham, Leicester and Sheffield, eager to ensure uninterrupted clean water for their burgeoning populations, and the entire operation was nationalised in 1947. So what was lost? Essentially a typical upland Derbyshire stone built 16th or 17th century gabled country house much enlarged and equipped with all the latest comforts in the late 19th century, but none the less interesting for all that. Although Derwent was part of the extensive upland parish of Hathersage, the unforgiving terrain was not inductive to the accumulation of a landed estate and the site from late medieval time was a farm held by the Barber family. The father of Henry Balguy (pronounced ‘bawgee’), a younger son of the Balguys of Aston-in-Peak, bought some land at Derwent and later acquired more at Rowlee and Henry (1648-1685) combined the two to create a modest estate, acquiring Derwent Hall, then a moderate sized farm house taxed in 1670 on four hearths, in 1672. His son – another Henry – rebuilt the house some two decades later (it bore an entirely convincing date-stone of 1692), leaving an attractive small H-plan manor house of two storeys with gabled attics, built of coarse local Kinderscout grit with ashlar detailing: coped gables, four, six and eight light mullion-and-transomed windows with string courses over, and quoins at the angles, all under a stone slate roof. The central entrance had a round arched top with the date-stone and an armorial set above it, the string course dipping down above for emphasis. The east elevation was five bays, the two closest to the main front being full height and the three towards the north being lower with attics, representing service accommodation. In the early 19th century a pair of ten light matching windows were installed here. There was also a lower wing to the west and a stable block beyond, at right angles to the house, the whole ensemble being set on the lower slopes of the hill behind with parterres and terraces running down to the Derwent. A third Henry Balguy (1700-1770), having acquired by marriage extensive coal mining interests in the Alfreton area, sold up in 1767 and moved there, selling to the Bennet family, a numerous and well-off farming family in the Dark Peak. The purchaser’s son, John Bennet, acquired tapestries rescued from the fire that destroyed Lord Shrewsbury’s epic prodigy house, Worksop Manor and had them altered to fit Derwent’s parlour and dining room. In 1831, however, the estate was sold to John Read (1777-1862) initially as a summer retreat. He re-ordered the gardens as recorded in the lithograph by W L Walton. He sold it on in 1846 to the Newdigates of West Hallam Hall and Arbury (Warwickshire) who tenanted it as a farm. They too sold it on, in 1876, and this time the purchaser was Henry, 15th Duke of Norfolk, who vested it, as a coming-of-age present, to his younger son, Lord Edmund Bernard FitzAlan-Howard. Although the Howards were normally seated at Arundel, it must not be forgotten that they also owned Glossop Hall and the vast, if rather barren, hills that surrounded it; indeed the lad’s politician great uncle Edward, who lived there, was in 1869 created 1st Lord Howard of Glossop. Lord Edmund, as a FitzAlan-Howard, was a strong Catholic, and also a talented and energetic fellow. He immediately set about transforming the very modest old house into a considerable seat, employing the then doyen of Roman Catholic architects, Joseph Aloysius Hansom (of cab fame) to undertake the work of creating an Elysium amongst the dark hills above Derwent. The work began in 1878 and was completed in 1882. Although the original south front was kept, the remainder of the house was almost completely rebuilt, although with considerable tact. The two cross wings were extended back into the hillside, the main range was doubled in depth, and new service wing was added to the west and the stable range was re-ordered to create a courtyard around it. The East front was enlivened with two ground floor square bays and a large projecting bay containing a vast new drawing room with a canted end, beyond which was built a simple gothic domestic chapel, slightly higher than the house itself. Attic dormers were also added, and the interior acquired new oak panelling to match the old, along with a completely new and very fine oak staircase. The interior also gained an overmantel dated 1634 from old Norton Hall (replaced in 1796 and now in Sheffield). The gardens were completely re-arranged and the estate increased to 1,274 acres. The result was a house of some style and ambition, fitted with all modern conveniences, including home-produced gas and, after a decade or so, electric light installed by George Crompton of Stanton Hall, Stanton-by-Dale, a pioneer in this field. In 1921, Lord Edmund was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland – the last person to hold that office and the first Catholic to do so since 1686 – and was ennobled as Viscount FitzAlan of Derwent in consequence. By the time he laid down office in 1922, as a result of the declaration of the Irish Free State, he had decided, with advancing years to live at Cumberland Lodge at Windsor, and the family just went to Derwent for part of the summer and the shooting season. Then, in 1920 the various local authorities determined to build a further series of reservoirs to alleviate an impending water shortage, and it soon became clear that the days of Derwent Hall were numbered. In 1920 the Norton Old
Lost House – Parkfields Cedars, Derby
When architects design their own houses, there is always something of interest. Richard Leaper was Derby’s Regency period amateur architect who, according to historian Stephen Glover ‘…has had great taste and much experience in building family mansions…’ Leaper was a municipal grandee, a banker and tannery proprietor, but despite these responsibilities, was indeed a fairly prolific architect, a gentleman of leisure with time on his hands and a wide circle of kinsmen and acquaintances. Leaper’s father had served as Mayor of Derby in 1776-1777 and in 1753 had married Sarah Ward, sister of Archer Ward, a banker colleague of his father. Richard, born in 1759, was educated at Derby School, joined the Corporation 1790, being elected Mayor in 1794-95 and was made an alderman shortly thereafter. He served as Mayor again in 1807, 1815 and 1824, by which time he was also a partner in the bank. His earliest commission was probably the Particular Baptist Chapel in Agard Street (for Ward) built in 1796 with a good Classical facade. Unfortunately, it fell victim to the coming of the Great Northern Railway in 1876. On this page over the last two years we have looked at four of the houses he designed for friends in the Derby area, but of equal interest is the house he himself lived in, for when architects design their own houses, there is always something of interest. At first he lived at 59, Friar Gate, Derby, a house of 1770 upon which he seems to have left no discernible architectural impression, but at some time before 1819 he had decided to leave his modest Georgian house in Friar Gate and move to Kedleston Road ‘about one mile outside Derby’ where he built himself a villa, later called Parkfields Cedars. It was possibly so called from the outset indeed, but house names tend not to be listed in very early directories. The six acres of land in which it stood was part of the Park Field, one of the common fields of the Borough and which was sold off at about this time. On various parts of it were built Parkfields House (now situated off Park Grove), Highfields (off Highfields Road) and Parkfields Villa (Duffield Road, cruelly demolished in the 1990s). Two large cedar trees framing the SW front determined the choice of name. Leaper’s authorship of its design is implicit from its date and the fact that he resided there during the final two decades of his life, but no supporting documents seem to survive. Stylistically though, it had his paw prints all over it. The house was a relatively plain two storey brick and stucco villa of three bays by five, the three on the garden front, being centered by a full height curved bow. There is a typically Leaper cornice and low parapet hiding the low hipped roof. The return, SE, front appeared to have five bays with Doric pilasters framing the central trio, but actually at the right hand end there was an extra bay with mezzanine windows, marking the position of the staircase. The NW side had the entrance, very like Leaper’s nearby villa called The Leylands in that the portico was columned in antis, but Doric rather than Ionic as at The Leylands. This part was also irregular, in a typically Leaperish way in that there were two bays to the left of the portico, but only one to the right and that was a blind bay with only recessed panels, and antae (plain pilasters) at the angles. The analogous house is the extant Limes, Mickleover, which has just this arrangement, with a bowed garden front and an irregular side entrance with a portico and is thus also attributable to Leaper. Inside, the dining room lay to one’s left and the drawing room, looking out over the lawns and cedars, to one’s right. Further along the hall and the breakfast room and study/library were entered on the right with the stairs opposite. This was timber, carved with fruit and flowers and almost Jacobethan in its un-Classical exuberance. It bifurcated on a mezzanine lit by an eight light Gothick window almost exactly like that on the stairs at Leaper’s Barrow Hall, Barrow-on-Trent (see Country Images for April 2014). One of the rooms sported a Corinthian chimneypiece of local crinoidal marble, whilst another was pseudo-15th century with stone hood, very similar to an equally quirky one Leaper installed in The Pastures, Littleover (now the Boys’ Grammar School). There was also a large service wing to the NE. On Leaper’s death in 1838, the house was sold to Alderman John Sandars, a man who had, shortly afterwards, the distinction of being Mayor of Derby. When the new Guildhall burnt down very spectacularly on the night of Trafalgar Day 1841, he had left office for a year. This conflagration might have meant the loss of all the City’s records which were then stored in the building, but for the fact that the good Alderman, a former book dealer and antiquarian turned vintner, had used his Mayorial clout to take many home with him to read, thus ensuring their survival. Sandars died aged 86 in 1867, when the property was sold by his family to the Wilmot-Sitwells of Stainsby House (see Country Images January 2015) as their Derby town house. Later, in the 1850s, it became the roost of some of their maiden aunts, notably Eliza Wilmot-Sitwell, after the tenancy of whom the place was let to solicitor John Moody, founder of Messrs. Moody & Woolley, then and until recently of St. Mary’s Gate. Towards the end of the 19th century it was again sold, this time to the formidable Mrs. E. M. Pike, proprietor of the Derby Telegraph. She was something of an enthusiast for buying property, having also bought 36-38 Corn Market (formerly the Tiger); on her death in December 1905 her trustees decided to dispose of Parkfields Cedars. Thus it was in 1905 that Derby Council bought it with five and a
Lost Houses – Aldercar Hall
It was of brick with quoins and other dressings of coal measures sandstone, undoubtedly from a local quarry (or re-used from Codnor Castle, at this date, rapidly in decline). Aldercar, a portion of the parish of Heanor and in the Middle Ages being one of four parks attached to the Zouche family’s Codnor Castle estate, takes its name from the Old English for an Alder plantation. At some stage in the downward spiral of the fortunes of the Zouches, Aldercar Park was sold off. That the Codnor estate was large enough to split without too much damage to the income (mainly from agriculture and coal rents) will be apparent when it is realised that the total parkland alone ran to 3,000 acres. The purchaser was Heanor merchant Henry Hyde, although we cannot tell precisely the date of his acquisition. Probably he was a freeholding yeoman farmer who had made a fortune by letting the rights to mine for coal under his land. In those days, mining was a family or extended family affair done in bell pits, the land being rented from the freeholder for a share of the take. This indeed, was probably Hyde’s incentive for buying part of the Codnor estate. Henry died in 1610, probably relatively young, for his son and heir, John, who succeeded to the land, was only twelve at the time; a younger son was Henry, only eight. John married a lady called Joyce around 1626 and they had a son, also John, born two years later, and it may well be the death of one of other of them that allowed the estate to be sold. Whether the Hydes actually built a house at Aldercar is not wholly clear, but the elder Hyde is once or twice described as ‘of Aldercar’ which suggests they lived there rather than in Heanor. The purchaser of the estate was extractive entrepreneur Richard Milnes of Dunston Hall, Sheepbridge, near Chesterfield, but all he did was to detach part of the estate which he wished to add to some coal-rich land he already owned nearby, and in around 1667 he sold the remainder on. It was bought by his kinsman Thomas Burton of Holmesfield Hall, near Chesterfield, the scion of a then numerous but very ancient family. He too was a coal owner, but he had at first settled in Derby, building Thorntree House at the bottom of St. Peter’s Street, now the site of the HSBC. The impetus for this was his marriage, during the Commonwealth, to Frances, the daughter of the aristocratic gynaecological pioneer Dr. Percival Willoughby, who lived in the house later known as the Old Mayor’s Parlour, nearby, which I described in these pages two years ago. Frances died in childbirth, and his father died in 1657 so Thomas returned to Holmesfield. He re-married in 1662, his bride being Prudence, a daughter of Francis Lowe of Owlgreaves Hall, very close to Aldercar (now called Aldgrave and replaced). Indeed, it may have been the spur for Thomas buying land near his wife’s father’s estate. What is certain is that he built a house – or perhaps, rebuilt the one that the Hydes had. It was of brick with quoins and other dressings of coal measures sandstone, undoubtedly from a local quarry (or re-used from the castle, at this date, rapidly in decline) It was of two piles deep, plus a northern service wing, with twin gabled end elevations. The gables being straight coped and decorated with finials, with two light mullioned windows on the attic storey and mullion and transom cross windows on the lower floor. The whole being of two tallish storeys with attics. Inside there was a fine oak staircase with turned balusters and much panelling of the period.. It seems to have been taxed on seven hearths in 1670, when it must have been very new; a sundial was dated 1668, which might well mark the completion date of the building. William Woolley, writing in 1713, said of it that it was a ‘good house and a pretty commodious seat’ but by his time, Burton had died (not long after his wife, who died in 1679). He had three sons, of whom the youngest., Capt. Thomas Burton had the single misfortune to have been killed in action fighting under Marlborough at the Battle of Blenheim in 1705.Michael, the eldest, married the co-heiress of Henry Wigley of Wigwell, an opulent lead trader.Moving to Wirksworth he sold Aldercar to Richard Milnes’s grandson (also Richard), from whom it descended in 1787 to Robert Mower and through his daughter’s marriage in 1791 to Thomas Smith of Dunston, ancestor of my esteemed kin the Craven-Smith-Milnes family of Winkburn Hall in Nottinghamshire. Thomas Smith’s brother, John sold the house and estate to George Jessop, youngest son of Butterley Company co-founder William, sometime around 1848, when the latter became involved with the running of the company after his return from setting up an ironworks in India. He moved to Honley Hall in Yorkshire in the 1850s, and sold it to his Butterley co-director, Francis Wright of Osmaston, who installed his 16 year old son Francis Beresford there in 1857. In 1862 the latter married Adeline FitzHerbert (of the Norbury branch of the family), whose family occupied a superb Carolean house in Warwickshire, the hall at Wootton Wawen, which they bought outright in 1882 Aldercar failed to sell, due to the agricultural depression, and was instead let as a school for young gentlemen wishing to make a career in the colonies, run by Francis Hugh Adams and later by Ernest Nicholls. In 1895 the house was described as ‘venerable looking’. However, in 1896, the Wright’s eldest son Arthur came of age, and he re-occupied Aldercar, soon afterwards (certainly before 1908) completely rebuilding it. His architect was John Reginald Naylor of the Derby partnership of Naylor & Sale of Derby, who were then building extensively for other members of the family, enlarging Swanwick Hayes for Francis Wright’s brother FitzHerbert in 1893-96
