Historic Homes of England
Chris Franks at a medieval masterpiece
IF I were to pick two words to describe Haddon Hall’s character, they would probably be “time traveller.” This ancient place is widely regarded as England’s finest preserved medieval house. It isn’t known how long people have lived there, but the earliest record is in the Domesday survey of 1087, when William de Peverel, an illegitimate son of William the Conqueror, owned a dwelling based around the north-east tower and the chapel. In 1170, the estate passed to Richard de Vernon and for the 850 years since it has been owned by just two families, Vernon and Manners.
Unlike many castles and manor houses, Haddon wasn’t slighted during the English Civil War. When John Manners became Duke of Rutland in 1703, the family moved to Belvoir Castle and for the next 200 years Haddon was unoccupied, falling into decline and becoming heavily overgrown. Continental architectural fashions altered many English houses during the 18th century but Haddon lay undisturbed.
It wasn’t until John, 9th Duke of Rutland, took over in the early 20th century that it was revived. An archaeologist himself, he dedicated his life to restoring it and it is largely thanks to his and his wife Kathleen’s work that it stands as it does today.
It first appears on the northbound A6 between Matlock and Buxton; something grey and primordial, flitting among the trees. It isn’t until you’re on the path up, crossing the bridge over the Derbyshire Wye, that it reveals itself: a precipitous wall of towers, crenellations, buttresses and windows, frowning down on the valley.
Your eye is drawn here and there, each part different and yet everything blending. It’s all rather stern and forbidding. Today’s main entrance is through a gate at the foot of the north-west tower. It used to be the back door.
Ruth Eady, duty warden at Haddon, explains.
“You’re looking at the base of a figure of eight. The original entrance is at the top of the figure of eight, on the east side. In the mid 1400s they flipped it and the entrance was moved here.”
The gate leads to the lower courtyard and once inside, everything changes. The lines soften, the stones warm to a welcoming sandy yellow, the windows seem less like arrow slits and the entrance to the hall itself is an inviting homely porch. The ground tilts underfoot, like a roiled sea frozen mid wave. It’s difficult to forget Haddon’s hillside location.
With no building at the hall after about 1600, the courtyard hasn’t changed in over 400 years. On the inside of the west wall is a 15thcentury terrace like something out of an Oxford college. There’s a flight of steps dating from about 1500 leading to the Earl’s apartments and an octagonal bell tower from 1450, its crenellations biting the air like a giant drill.
Crenellations are everywhere at Haddon. To the right of the porch is an intriguing mix of eras: a medieval window on the ground floor with an Elizabethan one above, the result of changes in the 1500s. Back in the corner by the entrance is the Squinches, a tangle of arches and ledges bending back the west wall to accommodate the gate.
“It’s a sort of medieval RSJ,” Ruth says.
By the bell tower is the entrance to the chapel. The oldest part is the south aisle, already on record in 1087 though Saxon remains have been found under the floor. There have been various additions over the centuries. The fine medieval stained glass in the east window is only a fraction of what used to be there, much having been stolen and damaged during the 19th century when the hall was empty.
A restoration project is underway but it will be expensive and delicate work. The images covering the walls would originally have been bright with colour but were later waxed and whitewashed. The 9th Duke had them uncovered in a piece of work that took 25 years. Look at the sepia photo of him (on the next page) doing some of the work himself. Look at his concentration. His love of Haddon has made him a popular figure at the hall.
“We’re all fond of the 9th Duke,” Ruth says. “It was his momentum that brought Haddon back to life. He had to divest huge tranches of land to pay for it, though. He practically had to sell Bakewell to keep Haddon.”
More recent is the marble effigy of the 9th Duke’s older brother, Robert, who died in 1894 aged just nine. His mother Violet, the 8th Duchess, was a talented artist and spent 40 years sculpting it.
“We think it was an accident,” Ruth says, “some sort of twisted gut. He lingered for a couple of days, then passed away.”
Back in the courtyard, under the stairs to the Earl’s apartments, is a door to a thin windowless room. In 1195, Haddon was granted a licence to build a 12-foot surrounding wall. Much of this was incorporated into later buildings but here you can see the original construction, dating from around 1200. Called King John’s
Wall, it is on the right as you enter. About 250 years later, five oak beams were added to support a walkway above and when this was converted into the Earl’s apartments, the second wall was added, enclosing the passage.
Look at the fine-grained surface of the stone, the mortar still clean and sharp as sandpaper. It’s over 800 years old but could have been built last week. The oak beams were cut in single pieces from trees already mature when they were felled over
550 years ago. Note how fresh and light they are, the grain still hard as iron. In here, protected from the elements, time has halted.
Through the porch and along the screens passage on the left is the kitchen. During his restoration, the 9th Duke left this room intact, converting a nearby stable block to serve as the new kitchen and linking this back via a tunnel. The result is a perfectly preserved medieval workplace, one of the most evocative rooms in the hall. The moment you enter, it seems to
come alive: the rumble of flames, the glow of heat, the scrape of knives and tang of sizzling mutton. It’s as if the surfaces have just been wiped down from last night’s banquet.
There are burn marks on the beams everywhere; crude lighting or apotropaic symbols, no-one is sure. There is a centuries-old section of tree trunk once used as a chopping block and an extremely rare medieval dresser. Don’t miss the dole cupboards, wooden chests with carved fronts for storing food. Haddon has a unique collection.
“The museums are pretty jealous of us,” Ruth says, “though most people walk past them and don’t know what they are.”
Further along are the pie ovens. When in use, the doors were sealed with pastry and, once that was cooked, it was time to take the pies out. They were a very hot and dangerous place to work.
“One of my jobs is to light them occasionally,” says Ruth, “which is great for trimming your fringe.”
On the other side of the screens passage is the banqueting hall. The moment you enter, everything lifts. Here is the majesty that the courtyard, towers and crenellations have been promising. Built in 1370, this is the oldest room at Haddon still in its original state. There is a reserved self-assurance about it; no fans of swords smothering the walls, no giant gold-framed mirrors or plaster mouldings. It has nothing to prove: it’s the real thing.
Only the roof is relatively new,
replaced in the 1920s with oak beams grown on the Haddon and Belvoir estates. On the walls are a painting attributed to the 17th-century Dutch artist, d’Hondecoeter, and two tapestries. Haddon has a fine tapestry collection, though many were lost to a fire in 1925. Thankfully, the five “Senses” tapestries survived. Dating from the early 17th century, these are thought to have been owned by Charles I. One of them hangs in the minstrels’ gallery.
Further on is the dining room. Originally the same height as the banqueting hall, this room and the identically shaped great chamber above were created when a ceiling was inserted around 1500. This is the other side of the medieval window in the courtyard. After the cathedral-like grandeur of the banqueting hall, there is a crepuscular intimacy about this room, with its dark oak panelling, low ceiling and open fireplace. Up the stairs, its twin, the great chamber, has lighter walls, a higher ceiling and those later Elizabethan windows. Though splendid, it is less cosy; more friend than lover.
Through a modest door at the end of the stairway is one of Haddon’s great surprises. At 110 feet from end to end, the long gallery is the hall’s most striking room. Stepping inside, you feel a bit anxious, like you’re interrupting some formal ceremony.
“This is your Elizabethan show-off room,” Ruth says.
It certainly is. Everything is so much brighter and more ornate: the white ceilings, the elaborate carvings, the abundance of windows, the panels, stained pale to be more luminous.
Less obvious is the alignment of panes in the windows, not flat but all set at different angles for greater light variety. From the garden, the effect of this is stunning, making the south aspect of the building gleam like a cut diamond.
The garden is where the tour ends, in a series of steps and walled terraces descending to the Wye below. It is serene and magical, a world apart from the stark north-west rampart that greeted your arrival. Look out for the door, steps and packhorse bridge named after Dorothy Vernon. The story of her elopement is one of Haddon’s more colourful legends.
In 1563, at the celebration of her sister’s wedding in the long gallery, Dorothy is said to have fled through the garden to ride off with her lover, Sir John Manners. Whether true or not, they were certainly married and it was through this that the Vernon and Manners families were joined. The story has inspired novels and plays, a light opera with music by Arthur Sullivan and even a 1924 silent film.
For somewhere so powerfully rooted in the past, Haddon has adapted well to the modern world. It delights thousands of visitors every year with event days such as archery, crafts and historical re-enactments. It is a popular venue for weddings and private functions and is a muchcoveted filming location. Over 30 films, documentaries and historical dramas have been made here.
For Lord and Lady Edward Manners, the owners, Haddon is also a home.
“I love the atmosphere of the hall,” Lady Edward says. “It’s calm, beautiful and homely. Though if I could change anything, it would be to have some central heating!”
Many visitors remark on how calm and tranquil Haddon is. Perhaps even the ghosts like it, if they have them?
“We call them house spirits,” says Lady Edward, “and yes, there are lots of them. They are everywhere and we love them.”
Maybe it comes from the lack of violence in its past. Whatever it is, Haddon has a profound peace that stays with you. But when you go, be gentle. If Haddon is to continue its journey through the ages, you must tread carefully. This precious time traveller has a way to go yet.
Haddon Hall, Bakewell, Derbyshire DE45 1LA. haddonhall.co.uk; 01629 812855