Return to Cressbrook Hall

We went to Litton Well Dressings last weekend.  Litton is up on the limestone plateau between Bakewell and Buxton.  In winter it can be a bit grim and drafty, but in the flowery height of summer, and bedecked with bunting, the place looked buxom and bucolic.  We parked the car outside a stone cottage with a window sticker that said "Neighbourhood Witch".  In the window of the 4X4 outside was a "My other car is a broomstick" sticker.  We made a mental note to be extra careful not to trash her verge.  Well, you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of that particular villager would you?

There were two wells dressed. Neither were real wells, but the symbolic type much favoured by villages that have lost their original water sources, or the real ones are too muddy and too off the beaten track for cake seeking car bourne tourists like us to tramp all the way to.  I liked the idea they had of rigging up a tiny temporary garden fountain in front of each. 

The charming Red Lion pub has tiny rooms, so what with the brass band setting up outside and sunday lunches in full swing, the odds of getting a seat were slim.  We opted for tea at the village hall where a goodly spread of cake made up for the lack of lager.  After munching our way through a couple of slices I bought a couple of items from the elderly lady running an animal charity stall and we wandered back out to the green.  A poster near the village shop (a co-operative venture owned by villagers, but sadly now in need of more stakeholders) advertised the fact that Cressbrook Hall was opening its gardens on Sunday afternoons. 

I have always liked the look of this Victorian Gothic country house, poised on the slope by the Water Cum Jollydale gorge.  In fact L and I nearly stayed in one of their self catering cottages once.  (I forget what stopped us - poverty or a better offer perhaps).  The old man on washing up duty in the church hall assured us that it was at most a mile and a half from Litton to Cressbrook, so we decided to walk there.

It was a dull, overcast day, and rather windy. The road winds up by the cemetery then through fields of staring cows, then past a row of 19th century cottages inaccurately called "New Houses".  From thence it drops down past a Victorian chapel into Cressbrook Village - a cluster of dark stone houses that looked as if they were probably built as estate cottages for workers at the hall.  Cressbrook had a couple of wells dressed too, and bunting was flapping in the breeze.  After viewing the wells we found the twisty lane that led up towards the Hall.  But a dissappointing notice announced that the gardens were "Closed Today".  Peeved, we set off back to Litton. To add insult to injury it was uphill all the wall back.  But at least we got back in time for the well blessing outside the chapel.

This Sunday I was determined to go back and get into those gardens.  I had e-mailed Mrs Bobby Hull Bailey, the owner, and told her our sad tale.  She mailed back to assure me that the gardens would be open from 11.45am. 


Di's Brew Stop


This time we walked from Millers Dale.  For once the weather forecast spoke true and we had a mini heat wave.  After weeks of cool showery weather, it felt curiously tropical striding through the Wye Valley gorge with the sun shining and a sticky patch of sweat under my rucksack.  (Sorry, too much information!)

Litton Mill was dusty and baked in the heat.  We stopped for a slice of my homemade Pineapple and Coconut cake and a nectarine.  By Cressbrooke Mill we were in need of a cuppa and happily "Di's Brewstop" was open.  This odd little hole in the wall isn't really a cafe.  There is no loo and inside only a few old chairs like you used to see in oldfashioned Youth Hostel Common Rooms.  But it is much enjoyed by muddy booted walkers and our shoes were distinctly muddy by this time, it having evidently rained hard the night before. The strange, crenallated building looks like a mini castle but was apparently the Mill overseers' house. 

Fortified by an ice cream and a mug of tea we continued on our way up a steep hill towards Cressbrook Hall.  The fact that everything is on a steep slope, obscuring the view, and the lanes wander up and down a bit made it quite hard to find the right approach.  But eventually, having passed the Lower Lodge and made our way up and then down the hillside into the estate, we came to the back entrance door of the hall.  It is a house in the mock Elizabethan style, with over tall chimneys and pointed garbles. Built 1835 (four years before our cottage!) its glory is its location, on a shelf of land overlooking the wide rocky river gorge, with a stoney slope rising high on the opposite side.

A notice asked garden visitors to ring the bell, which we did and a pleasant middleaged woman in a flowery blue dress (not posh enough sounding to be Bobby) took our money, gave us a leaflet and asked if we wanted tea or coffee.  "When you're ready sit on the terrace and I'll bring it out for you" she instructed.  There were no other visitors and so we had the lovely gardens to ourselves.  They aren't large, but the island beds, planted in a very High Victorian style, were immaculately edged with was not a weed in sight nor a blade of grass out of place.  I admired the Black Elder and several other choice plants.  Beyond the terrace balustrades, the ground dropped away to the wilder woodland along the river. 

By now it was very hot and still, with not a breath of wind.  Our host brought out a tray of tea, plenty of biscuits and a brochure about the hall.  When we asked how much, she said it was included in the price.  Jolly decent I thought.  We complimented the gardens and she explained that they were not hers, she was merely helping out.  (I was right about Bobby then). 

The brochure revealed that prior to 1979, when the current owners bought it on a whim for its stunning location, the house had been home to a pig farmer, Colombia Pictures, an estate agent and a community of nuns. Not all at the same time one hopes.  After enjoying the refreshments we explored The Nun's Steps and the little private garden belonging to Garden Cottage.  Evidently nobody was in residence that week. 

Then it was time to go and we took what we thought was a short cut along the drive and out of Lower Lodge.  Up the lane was a footpath to Litton Mill, avoiding the mud of Water Cum Jollydale by skirting the wooded slope of the gorge.  After making our way carefully along the steep, rocky and rather slippery path we eventually popped out at the bottom of the Nun's Steps.  Meaning that had we but known it, we could have cut quite a long section off our route.  But no matter.  The weather was still warm and sticky but pleasant for walking and strangely for such a damp green route by the river and wetland, there were no bothersome midges or insects to annoy us.

We walked back long the road from Litton Mill to Millersdale, avoiding the steep scramble up to the Monsall Track on the opposite bank.  What a lovely Derbyshire day!