Hermitage

Missing hermits and Netflix blockbusters – the Painshill story

Posted on by Platypus Man

Painshill, in the county of Surrey, is regarded as one of the finest remaining examples of an 18th-century English landscape park. Having been rescued from oblivion by the local council, it has won awards and been used as a filming location for the Netflix blockbuster Bridgerton. In the past, however, Painshill struggled to hang on to its hermits!

The Woollett Bridge: installed in autumn 2022, replacing Hamilton’s original while copying its design

The creator of Painshill Park was Charles Hamilton (1704-86), the 14th child(!) of the 6th Earl of Abercorn. Although Hamilton was plainly not at the top his family’s pecking order, his father was wealthy enough to buy him a “classical” education and to pay for him to undertake two Grand Tours of Europe in 1725 and 1732. It was these tours that helped inspire him to abandon formal, geometric garden layout at Painshill, adopting instead a picturesque and more naturalistic landscape.

The Five Arch Bridge, with the Gothic Temple beyond

Hamilton’s vision was to create a pleasure park offering visitors a series of sinuous trails and scenic vistas, with a range of eye-catching follies – including a Crystal Grotto, a Temple of Bacchus, a Gothic tower, a Turkish tent and a mock-Gothic “ruined” abbey – scattered amongst them. It was a revolutionary approach to garden design, one that influenced a generation of landscape gardeners. Today, Painshill is regarded as one of the finest examples of the English Landscape Movement.

The Gothic Temple…it’s a folly!

Work began in 1738 and continued until 1773, at which point Hamilton was forced to sell up to cover his debts. Over the next two centuries Painshill passed through a number of owners. Some of them bought into Hamilton’s vision, most notably Sir William Cooper – the High Sheriff of Surrey – who installed a suspension bridge and a waterwheel, and planted an arboretum. But ultimately the dream began to fade, the Park became neglected and its features started to decay.

View from inside the Gothic Temple

Painshill was recued by Elmbridge Borough Council. In 1980 the council purchased 158 acres (64 ha) of Hamilton’s original estate, enabling work to start on the restoration of the Park and its features. The following year responsibility passed to the Painshill Park Trust, which was newly created with a remit “to restore Painshill as nearly as possible to Charles Hamilton’s Original Concept of a Landscaped Garden for the benefit of the public.”

An alternative angle on the Five Arch Bridge, with the Turkish Tent (another folly!) beyond

At the heart of the Painshill landscape is a man-made serpentine lake, fed by water pumped from the nearby River Mole. Eye-catching in its own right, the lake also enabled the creation of picturesque islands and gave Hamilton an excuse to build some pretty bridges. The Five Arch Bridge is particularly elegant, and featured prominently in an early episode of Bridgerton, a hit Netflix drama set at the start of the 19th century. 

Hidden in the trees, the Temple of Bacchus. Yes, it’s a folly!

Bridgerton is a story of upper class secrets, lies and love, in which the poor and the ordinary are notable by their absence. This was also true of the early days of Painshill, when it was only well-bred or otherwise prominent folk – including future US presidents Thomas Jefferson and John Adams – who were personally shown around by the head gardener. 

The reflections on the serpentine lake were superb on the day we visited, although the grass was brown and parched after a long period without much rain.

Luckily, these days Painshill Park is open to anyone prepared to pay the modest entrance fee. Mrs P and I visited last year, and loved the place. It’s incongruous, quirky but strangely appealing. Sadly the day of our visit was very hot, and we didn’t feel up to walking into the woods to find the Hermitage, another of Hamilton’s flights of fancy. 

The waterwheel – one of Sir William Cooper’s creations

Hamilton was clearly an eccentric, and had the resources to indulge his eccentricities. One of these was that his park should host an “ornamental hermit.” Unlike genuine hermits who locked themselves away from the outside world for devotional or spiritual reasons, ornamental hermits were employed by rich estate owners to live in a hermitage on their land and amuse guests by making appearances.

The “ruined” abbey…
…Yet another folly!

An advertisement was duly placed to secure the services of a hermit to live in Painshill’s purpose-built Hermitage for a period of seven years. The fee was 700 guineas, to be paid as a lump sum at the end of the contract period, but only if the hermit was still in residence at that time and had not broken any rules.

The rules were explained in an advertisement for the position, which advised that the successful applicant “shall be provided with a Bible, optical glasses, a mat for his feet, a hassock for his pillow, an hourglass for his timepiece, water for his beverage and food from the house.” He was not allowed to speak, to cut his hair or nails or to leave the grounds of the estate.

The Hermitage. IMAGE CREDIT: Rictor Norton & David Allen from London, United Kingdom, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

This appears onerous, but the fee was generous: 700 guineas is equivalent to around £135,000 (USD 170,000) in today’s money. It’s said, however, that the first resident hermit liked an immediate beer rather more than the prospect of a pot of cash in the distant future. He lost his job after just three weeks, having run away and been tracked down to a local pub, where he was found to be as drunk as a skunk!

The Crystal Grotto
Restored early in the 21st century
That’s right, another folly!

The Hermitage eventually fell into disrepair and was finally demolished for firewood in the 1940s. It has since been rebuilt by the Painshill Park Trust, based on drawings of the original structure. Mrs P and I plan to make a return visit to the Park, and when we do we’ll be sure to track down the Hermitage. I may even take up residence…the prospect of living in splendid isolation, insulated from rantings of crazed politicians, random so-called “celebrities” and all their media cronies is strangely appealing!

The cathedral cat

Posted on by Platypus Man

We spot him first in the monastic cloisters that are attached to the Cathedral, rolling on his back and wantonly flashing his belly at anyone who will look in his direction. I hurry towards him, camera in hand, hoping to capture some cute video action. But he’s in no mood to be filmed and disappears through a doorway into the main body of the Cathedral. Mrs P’s still taking photos of the cloisters, so I wait for her. By the time we’re ready to follow my new feline friend into the main body of the Cathedral, he’s nowhere to be seen.

Norwich Cathedral

Work began on the construction of Norwich Cathedral in 1096 and was completed in 1145. It is a magnificent building, regarded – its guidebook informs me – as one of the finest examples of Romanesque architecture in Europe. The monastic cloisters are the second largest in England, exceeded only by those at Salisbury Cathedral. Its cathedral close – that is, the area immediately around a cathedral comprising various properties that belong to it – is England’s largest.

Clerics and other Cathedral officers are housed or work in Norwich Cathedral’s close. And, as we are soon to learn, the close is also home to a cat who is famous the world over.

“Budge” the cathedral cat

Leaving the cloisters behind us, our minds are blown away as we enter the main body of the Cathedral. Stunning! Spectacular! Awe inspiring! The superlatives keep on coming, and we join other visitors in cricking our necks to admire the soaring roof. And yet, as we look around us, we see other visitors focussed on matters that are more grounded: the cat I spotted earlier in the cloisters is now sitting next to the pulpit, and has gathered a bevy of doting admirers.

Standing close by the cat is a member of Cathedral staff. Or maybe a volunteer, I’m not quite sure, but she clearly has an official role in this magnificent place. And she wears a slightly weary expression. I sense she’d rather be talking to us about the glory of God and the breath-taking building He has inspired. But instead she’s filling us in on the life and times of the Cathedral cat.

His name, we learn, is Budge, and he’s around five years old. He lives in one of the houses on the close, but spends most of his days in the Cathedral where he has become a bit of a celebrity. Budge has been known to gate-crash Cathedral events and make his presence known during morning prayers. He is popular with visitors, and the Dean is reported as saying that he brings comfort to those in torment:

“Sometimes people who come in are distressed, and we often find Budge sitting with them. I think some find him very therapeutic. Budge seems to bring people a lot of pleasure, and he is a very positive presence.”

Very Reverend Jane Hedges, Dean of Norwich Cathedral, quoted in this article on the BBC website, 25/12/2021

But like most cats his favourite hobby is snoozing, and it seems that there is nowhere in the Cathedral – including the altar – where he has not on occasion lain his sleepy head. A cat with a rare sense of style and a large helping of chutzpah, one Christmas he was even found sleeping in baby Jesus’s crib in the Nativity scene!

Having heard and enjoyed Budge’s story we bid him a fond farewell and continue our journey around Norwich Cathedral. Half an hour later we meet up with him again. He’s removed himself from his position by the pulpit, and is now curled up on a plush cushion that someone has thoughtfully placed on top of one of the choir stalls. He’s sleeping peacefully, seemingly unaware of his many admirers taking photos and selfies.

There’s no doubt about it – Budge is a superstar. Enter “Norwich cathedral cat” in the Google search box and the return is a massive 1.3 million hits! Like all superstars he has his own Twitter feed, and currently boasts 4,630 followers. At the top of his feed is this quote, which seems an appropriate tribute to a much-loved cat who spends most of his life in a Cathedral:

For I am possessed of a cat, surpassing in beauty, from whom I take occasion to bless Almighty God

Excerpt from Jubilate Agno, by Christopher Smart

Christmas card on sale from Norwich Cathedral shop, 2022

Budge’s superstar status is confirmed by the fact that the Cathedral shop sells Christmas cards featuring him. The illustration shows him in front of a large Christmas tree, stretched out on a heating vent that is pumping warmth into the Cathedral. This is, reputedly, one of his favourite spots for a quick nap! Although it’s a bit depressing to find Christmas cards on sale nearly four months before the big day, it’s great to see the affection in which Budge is held and to know that he’s doing his bit to raise funds for the maintenance of his magnificent second home.

St Julian, her calling and her cat

Although he’s the undoubted star of the show, Budge isn’t the only cat to be seen at Norwich Cathedral. One of its stained-glass windows is dedicated to St Julian of Norwich, and in the bottom left-hand corner is the image of a cat.

The remarkable woman featured in the window was born in Norwich in 1342. The name with which she was baptised is lost to history. In 1373 she contracted the plague and experienced several mystical visions as she fought her terrible illness. After a miraculous recovery she determined to devote the rest of her life to God, becoming an anchoress (hermit) at the church of St Julian in Norwich and adopting Julian as her name.

Julian, sometimes also known today as Juliana of Norwich, Dame Julian or Mother Julian, spent all her days and nights in a small cell measuring just over 9 square metres (100 square feet). The cell had a window into the church which allowed her to receive holy communion during Mass, and a window to the street to enable her to give guidance and spiritual support to anyone requesting it. There was also a small window through which a maidservant could pass her food and drink.

Although hers was a holy existence it must also have been very lonely, and Julian is believed to have developed a close relationship with the cat that she was allowed to keep in her cell to control rats and mice. It is this relationship that is referenced in the stained glass.

Julian was controversially ahead of her time in describing God as both mother and father, and in calling Jesus our “true Mother” from whom we receive our beginning, our true being, protection and love.

One of her core messages was “All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” It’s an idea that we may all wish to cling to in these, the most turbulent of times.

Julian’s writings, the Revelations of Divine Love, are the earliest surviving works in the English language written by a woman. You can learn a little more about her by watching this short video that I tracked down on YouTube.

The video makes no mention of Julian’s relationship with her cat, understandably perhaps as this may be thought to trivialise a significant, holy life. Personally, however, I’m drawn to the idea that such an exceptional, mystical woman could develop a tender, caring relationship with a simple, furry hunter of rats and mice. In some circles Saint Julian is unofficially known as the patron saint of cats. I’m certain Budge would approve!

This is Derbyshire: magnificent mansions and hidden hermitages!

Posted on by Platypus Man

My home county of Derbyshire is famed for its stately homes, magnificent mansions built centuries ago by the idle rich to show ordinary folk how well-bred, wealthy and successful they were. Chatsworth House, for example, ancestral home of the Dukes of Devonshire, dates from the 18th century and is reckoned to be one of the finest of England’s great houses.

Chatsworth House (rear view) dates from the 18th century. In the foreground is the “Emperor Fountain” built for the anticipated visit of Tsar Nicholas II (he never actually came!)

Then there’s Hardwick Hall, built between 1590 and 1597 for relentless social climber Bess of Hardwick. It was the wonder of its day, celebrated in the phrase “Hardwick Hall, more glass than wall” for its unprecedented number of windows – glass was prohibitively expensive in the 16th century! It still looks spectacular today.

And let’s not forget Kedleston Hall, a mid-18th century neo-classical masterpiece which the National Trust describes as “a show palace built to impress,” noting that it “was built to wow guests with lavish details and luxurious surroundings.” I’ve previously written about Kedleston Hall and the park in which it sits in this post.

Hardwick Hall, “more glass than wall”, was built in the 1590s

But I wouldn’t wish to mislead you into thinking that Derbyshire is all about grand mansions. Last year we visited the remains of two very different, but equally fascinating dwellings, the largely forgotten, hidden homes of long-dead hermits.

* * * * *

The Dale Abbey hermitage, hidden in woodland on the outskirts of the village of Dale Abbey, dates from the early 12th century. The story goes that one day around the year 1130, a baker called Cornelius living in the nearby town (now city) of Derby had a vision of the Virgin Mary. The Virgin told him to make his way some 7 miles (11km) to a place called Depedale, where he should devote the remainder of his life to God.

Dale Abbey hermitage dates from the 12th century

Upon arrival, Cornelius discovered Depedale to be uninhabited, simply an area of marshland in the bottom of the valley (dale). On its southern side was a steep sandstone bank, and here he excavated a cave in which he would live and worship in peaceful seclusion for around 20 years.

Nearly 900 years later, the results of the baker’s efforts are still plain to see. The simple cave has a sizeable interior, and boasts openings for a door and several large windows. Its construction by just one man using rudimentary 12th century tools must have required a huge amount of effort.

View from the inside of Dale Abbey hermitage

The interior walls of the cave-house are covered with countless graffiti etched into the rock. Amongst these, and now highlighted with a modern coat of fading yellow paint, is an engraved cross. Despite the thoughtless desecration by vandals, it feels as if the hermit Cornelius speaks to us across the centuries. Here, he seems to say, in a world unimaginably different from your own, lived a simple, holy man. Look around you, and see how I toiled to honour my God. Remember me!

Hidden amongst countless graffiti from across the ages, and highlighted with a modern coat of fading yellow paint, is an engraved cross

As stories of the hermit spread, Depedale became a place of growing religious significance. In the 13th century, perhaps attracted by accounts of Cornelius’s exploits, some Augustinian canons founded a monastery on land not far from his hermitage. This was Dale Abbey, which gave the surrounding area the name by which it is now known.

Once a grand and imposing building, Dale Abbey has now all but disappeared thanks to King Henry VIII’s Dissolution of the Monasteries in the 1530s. However the modest hermitage lovingly excavated by Cornelius the baker still survives, proof should anyone require it that big is not always best.

* * * * *

Derbyshire’s second hermitage can trace its origins back even further back, and may have royal connections.

The Anchor Church cave in South Derbyshire, around 14 miles (22km) from Dale Abbey, is hollowed out of a sandstone outcrop close to the River Trent. Although the hermitage may have started life as a small cave carved out naturally by the action of the river, human intervention has made it what it is today. It comprises a series of impressive internal spaces (“rooms”?) and pillars, all accessed by a large doorway and lit by several substantial window openings.

The Anchor Church cave dates from the 9th century, and is one of the oldest intact domestic structures ever found in the UK

Astonishingly, research published in 2021 indicates that the cave-house can be dated back to the Saxon period, making it one of the oldest intact domestic interiors ever found in the UK. More intriguing still are suggestions that it may have been the home of Eardwulf, who was deposed as king of Northumbria in AD806 and died in exile around AD830.

Eardwulf, however, may not have lived in the cave voluntarily. Rather, it appears he was kept there by his enemies under some Saxon form of house arrest. His cave-dwelling lifestyle and spirituality set him apart from his fellows, and in due course he became known to history as Saint Hardulph.

In the 18th century the Anchor Church cave was re-purposed as a summerhouse, when its openings were widened to allow well-dressed ladies to pass through more easily!

The cave-house continued to be used long after Eardwulf’s death, and in the 18th century was re-purposed as a summerhouse by the Burdett family, the owners of the land in which it sits.

The Burdetts are also thought to have widened openings into and within the cave to allow well-dressed ladies to pass through more easily. They seem to have had scant regard for the cave’s history but, fortunately, their overall impact on the structure was slight, and with a little bit of imagination the visitor can still detect Eardwulf’s presence.

* * * * *

Neither the Anchor Church cave nor Dale Abbey hermitage are obvious 21st century visitor attractions. Neither is classically beautiful, or even quaintly pretty. Neither has a tea-room, or a gift shop, or even a car park – both must be reached via a short hike through the countryside.

Both, however, offer fascinating insights into lives that are totally alien to our own, comfortable 21st century existence. Magnificent mansions are an important part of Derbyshire’s “visitor offer”, but there’s so much more to our county’s history than the gilded mansions of the idle rich, if we only care to look.

Rear view of Kedleston Hall, a mid-18th century neo-classical masterpiece. Beautiful, but intrinsically no more interesting than Derbyshire’s hidden and largely forgotten hermitages.