Harrogate and Knaresborough

North to Harrogate to Celebrate Lynne's Birthday

05-Sept-2018

We broke our journey in Derbyshire, dropping in on the redoubtable Bess of Hardwick.

Hardwick Hall and Stainsby Mill

Hardwick Hall, built 1590-7, Derbyshire

Bess was born in 1527 the daughter of a yeoman famer who died when she was young. Four judiciously chosen marriages, sharp business acumen and, I suspect, a ruthless streak enabled to her to rise from relative poverty to become the Countess of Shrewsbury and the second richest woman in England, after Queen Elizabeth I. She built Hardwick Hall, now owned by the National Trust, beside her childhood home – now that was making a statement!

The Long Gallery, Hardwick Hall, Derbyshire

Her descendants became Earls, then Dukes of Devonshire. They settled in Bess's other Derbyshire residence, Chatsworth House, and they are still there.

Stainsby Mill is a 19th century watermill on the Hardwick Estate. It has been restored to full working order by the National Trust.

Stainsby Mill, Hardwick Estate, Derbyshire

Harrogate

Harrogate

North Yorkshire

We reached Harrogate in time to catch the traffic so Lynne’s phone routed us round the town centre enabling us to catch the school run instead - which might have been worse. It meant, though, that we drove the full length of The Stray, 200 acres of open land, dotted with the wells that made Harrogate famous. Given to the town in 1778 by the Duchy of Lancaster, The Stray curls around the eastern edge of the urban centre giving the impression that Harrogate is all large houses and open spaces.

Crown Hotel, Harrogate

300 years old, and right in the centre of town, the Crown Hotel is typically Harrogate.

The Crown Hotel, Harrogate

After checking in…

Lobby, Crown Hotel, Harrogate

…we claimed our complimentary cream tea...

Cream Tea, Crown Hotel, Harrogate

...then took a stroll to orientate ourselves. At the appropriate time we presented ourselves for dinner – also part of the deal. The menu was stuffed with pub favourites - battered haddock, giant Yorkshire pudding, baked salmon – but more interesting offerings lurked among the comfort food. Neither of us could resist venison carpaccio; the meat was soft and flavourful, the pickled cauliflower and carrots expertly done and the gently dressed salad leaves corralled in an exemplary parmesan tuile.

After that promising start the excruciatingly named ‘Eee Baaaa Gum’ was a hearty pan-fried slab of lamb with good dauphinoise potatoes, and a selection of nicely cooked vegetables.

Lynne’s vanilla pannacotta was too 2-D to wobble properly, but Yorkshire rhubarb was all it is cracked up to be. My parkin was fluffy and treacly, and the ginger ice cream showed every sign of being made in-house.

It was an excellent meal and we had the feeling there is a chef behind this who must churn out the steak and ale pies but likes to spread her/his wings – and deserves the opportunity to do more.

06-Sept-2018, Lynne’s birthday

Lynne opened her cards and a present or two, then we made our way down for breakfast

The breakfast buffet was well up to standard and the breakfast room even more showy than the lobby.

Lord Byron wrote ‘To a Beautiful Quaker’ while here staying here in 1806; a framed copy hangs by the door. Is it just doggerel, or have I missed something?

Breakfast at the Crown Hotel, Harrogate

Taking the Waters at Harrogate

Tourist attractions do not open early, so we went for a walk.

In 1596, recently returned from the Grand Tour, William Slingsby noted that the water from Tewit Well on the Stray was similar to the waters of Spa in Belgium. In the 17th and 18th centuries further chalybeate springs were found in High Harrogate, and chalybeate and sulphur springs in Low Harrogate. As ‘taking the waters’ became fashionable these hitherto insignificant hamlets grew into ‘England’s Spa’ and Harrogate led where Bath, Tunbridge Wells and several dozen others followed.

In the early days, guests at the Crown Hotel dipped their cups directly into the muddy sulphur springs to the right of the entrance. The Royal Pump Room was built over the springs in 1842 so the well-off could buy their water from a tap and drink it in comfort...

The Royal Pump Room, Harrogate (The glazed annex was added in 1913)

…while the poor were provided with an outside tap. The notice beside it says that the water is unfit for consumption – times change - but we thought the appalling smell of hydrogen sulphide was far more off-putting than any notice.

Very smelly sulphur water outside the Royal Pump Room, Harrogate

The Royal Baths are nearby. It is a huge complex, part of it now a Chinese restaurant…

The Royal Baths, Harrogate

…while the Turkish Bath (entrance round the corner) is one of only two Victorian Turkish Baths still operating in England.

The Turkish Bath, Parliament Street, Harrogate

Knaresborough

Knaresborough Market Square

Mid-morning we drove to Knaresborough, the short journey being mostly through outer Harrogate and past the town’s golf club. After only a few hundred metres of open country we crossed the River Nidd turned up the hill along Knaresborough High Street and parked near the market square.

Knaresborough Market Square

While Harrogate is largely a product of the late 18th and 19th centuries, Knaresborough is much older and was for a long time the bigger and more important settlement. With 15,000 inhabitants it now has less than a quarter of Harrogate’s population and lies within the Borough of Harrogate. Central Harrogate’s Georgian and Victorian grandeur contrasts sharply with Knaresborough's old centre, a comfortable jostle of several centuries of English vernacular architecture.

'Blind Jack' Metcalfe and Mother Shipton

Knaresborough market received its Royal Charter in 1310 and a weekly market is still held, with two of Knaresborough’s favourite citizens in attendance. Despite his disability ‘Blind Jack’ Metcalf, was a pioneering civil engineer and road builder in the 18th century….

'Blind Jack' Metcalf, Knaresborough Market Place, by Barbara Asquith, 2008

…while Mother Shipton is more problematic. A soothsayer and prophet she supposedly lived from 1488 to 1561, though the first book of her prophecies was only published in 1641. She was not connected with Knaresborough until a 1684 edition alleged she was born in a cave near the ‘petrifying well’ beside the River Nidd. As the petrifying well was already a tourist attraction (reputedly Britain’s oldest) perhaps the connection with Mother Shipton was ‘convenient’. Mother Shipton’s Cave and the Petrifying Well remain Knaresborough’s major attraction. We visited many years ago and I can confirm the petrifying well, actually a small waterfall, is well named; the mineral content ensuring that anything hung in the splashing water, be it a teddy, cricket bat or pair of socks, does indeed become coated in stone. Mother Shipton, I suspect, is mythical, but her statue has sat opposite the very real Jack Metcalf since 2013.

Mother Shipton, Knaresborough Market Square, by Christopher Kelly

We had coffee in the pleasant Lavender Café on the square, upstairs from what claims to be the oldest ‘chemyst’ shop in England.

Knaresborough Castle

Knaresborough remains entirely on the east side of the Nidd but has expanded onto the lower ground around the old town which is perched on a bluff above the river. This easily defended site attracted the earliest inhabitants and in the 11th century the town was known as Chanaresburg (Cenheard’s Fortress) though no one knows who Cenheard was. The Normans built a stone castle around 1100 and the outer ward would have seen most of the town’s commercial activity before the development of the market place. Little remains of the outer curtain wall.

The Inner Ward with remnants of the curtain wall, Knaresborough Castle

Even less remains of the inner wall, though the view over the river explains why this spot was chosen.

Looking down from the Inner Ward of Knaresborough Castle. The railway viaduct was completed in 1851 and is still in use

In 1140 four knights, led by Hugh de Morville, Constable of Knaresborough, murdered Thomas à Beckett in Canterbury Cathedral. On discovering their actions had not pleased Henry II they fled to Knaresborough and holed up in the castle for a year before being granted a pardon, provided they made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

In 1210 King John visited Knaresborough Castle on Maundy Thursday (the day before Good Friday) and distributed alms to the poor, starting a tradition that has continued to the present day. The gifts, originally in kind, are now in coin and the practice of the monarch washing the pauper’s feet has not survived (I wonder why?). Today’s recipients, selected for their contribution to the community where the year’s ceremony is held rather than their poverty, receive a bag of specially struck Maundy coins. The coins are legal tender, but their silver content and collectability make them worth much more than their face value.

In 1317 the castle was taken during Thomas of Lancaster’s revolt against Edward II, and the wall was breached when it was retaken for the king. Thereafter all was quiet until the Civil War. Following the Battle of Marston Moor (1644) the defeated royalists retreated to Knaresborough and the castle was besieged and eventually taken by Parliamentarian forces.

After the war Parliament ordered its destruction, the work being carried out by the local people who found it a convenient quarry for building stone. The dungeon remained – Knaresborough needed a prison…

The dungeon, Knaresborough Castle

…and part of the keep still stands above it.

The remains of the keep, Knaresborough Castle

The Tudor Courthouse

The Tudor courthouse in the inner ward remained untouched.

Tudor Courthouse, Knaresborough Castle

Now sitting behind a bowling green (!?), it contains the original courtroom and Knaresborough Museum.

Tudor Courtroom, Knaresborough Castle

The Sallyport

In the outer ward, in the middle of the putting green and surrounded by iron railings is the entrance to the castle’s last remaining sallyport.

Entrance to the sally port, Knaresborough Council

The tunnel, allowing messengers to get in and out during a siege, was used in the civil war. A potential weak point in the defences, it could be closed with a heavy portcullis, no longer in place.

Inside the sallyport, Knaresborough Castle

Cave spiders lay their eggs in white tear-drop shaped sacs hanging from the ceiling. Two species live in this country, this is, I think, meta bourneti. They are harmless – unless you are a woodlouse.

Cave spider, sallyport, Knaresborough Castle

Back to Harrogate

Lunch in Bettys

I was a Bettys virgin until we visited York last year on a May Sunday when we had to queue for a table. I did not expect the same on a September Thursday, but I was wrong. Bettys is not the sort of place I should like. ‘Tea rooms’ are not my natural habitat, (though Bettys will serve a glass of wine or a beer to those who need prefer it) but it has a magic that I appreciate without fully understanding, though it may be something to do with the quality of the fare.

Bettys, Harrogate

The story of how Swiss confectioner Frederick Belmont came to Harrogate is complicated and includes him arriving in Yorkshire by accident after getting on the wrong train at King’s Cross. He opened the first Bettys (it has never had an apostrophe) in 1919, the company merged with long established tea merchant Taylors of Harrogate in 1962 and now has six tea rooms, all in God’s Own County.

Some of Bettys more whimsical confectionery.
Belmont may have been a confectioner, Bettys may be a 'tea room' but they serve snacks, savouries and main courses, too

Lynne claims their egg mayonnaise sandwich is a work or art, my open sandwich with salad and Yorkshire goat’s cheese was delightful and the tea was as good as expected. Bettys is relatively expensive, some say you pay for the name, but quality ingredients are never cheap.

Lynne outside Bettys, Harrogate. Who, if anybody, the original Betty was remains a mystery.

Harry's Walking Tour

Harry is an enthusiastic young man who conducts free walking tours. We joined his small group by the large war memorial opposite Bettys…

War Memorial, Harrrogate

...and set off down Montpellier Hill which brought us to the familiar surroundings of the Crown Hotel. Harry pointed out how many of Harrogate’s central streets have borrowed names from well-known London thoroughfares citing Oxford Street, King’s Road and the inappropriately named Parliament Street, and just like Cheltenham, Harrogate has a Montpellier district. It made companies feel at home, he said, putting these addresses on their letterheads.

Montpellier Hill, Harrogate

Much of his walk covered ground we had already tramped, but he was entertaining well-versed on the history.

Agatha Christie and the 'Swan Hydro'

Up the hill opposite the Royal Baths is the Old Swan Hotel. In 1926 Agatha Christie was overworked and depressed even before her husband asked for a divorce. After a quarrel on December the 3rd he left to spend the weekend with his mistress. At 9:45 that evening Christie wrote her secretary a note saying she was ‘going to Yorkshire’ and left home; her car was later found abandoned near a flooded quarry in Surrey. Her disappearance made the front pages of the newspapers, and not just in this country. Over a thousand policemen, 15,000 volunteers, and several aeroplanes joined the hunt amid fears that she had committed suicide.

The Old Swan, Harrogate

On December the 14th she was recognised in the Swan Hydropathic Hotel (now the Old Swan) where she had checked in under an assumed name. She claimed to have no memory of the previous ten days and never talked about it again, entirely omitting the episode from her autobiography. It has been suggested she had suffered a dissociative fugue, or was attempting to frame her husband for her murder or it was just a publicity stunt. Nobody knows.

The End of the Cure

When Charles Dickens visited in 1858, he observed ‘Harrogate is the queerest place with the strangest people in it, leading the oddest lives of, newspaper reading and dining.’ The ‘strangest people’ were the crowds taking the cure, and Harry produced a 19th century document advising them how best to divide their day into periods for drinking foul-tasting water, reading the newspaper, resting, drinking more water, strolling, drinking more water and socialising. The ‘oddest life’ seemed a fair description, but when it was the height of fashion those less acute than Dickens did not notice.

The fashion faded in the 20th century, the increasingly anachronistic 'Bath Chair Brigade' finally (metaphorically) killed off by the Second World War. During the war, the Swan Hydropathic (they dropped ‘Hydropathic’ from their name, in favour of ‘Old’ around 1950) and other big hotels were commandeered as government offices and army headquarters – they were less likely to be bombed here than in London. Learning from that, post-war Harrogate reinvented itself as a conference centre.

Valley Gardens

Harry led us into the Valley Gardens, 17 acres of greenery stretching west from the town centre.

Valley Gardens, Harrogate

A glass covered walkway allowed takers of the cure to exercise gently in all weathers. The gardens also have 36 mineral springs, accounting for its original name of ‘Bogs Field’. Valley Gardens sounds much more attractive and I wonder if they will ever rechristen the ‘Magnesia Wells Café’.

Valley Gardens, Harrogate

The End of Harry’s Tour

Returning to the centre we processed through Wetherspoons following Harry’s placard – not without comment - to view the ghost of a glass covered arcade incorporated into the modern building…

Part of the glass acracde, inside 'Spoons, Harrogate

…and then back to Bettys. Harrogate is the home of Bettys, but we had not, we discovered visited the original - Bettys moved (though only across the road) into its current premises relatively recently.

Dinner at All Bar One

So our Harrogate sojourn ended. We dined in All Bar One on Parliament Street, although not usually fans of chain restaurants, it had a bright, welcoming interior and the menu suited our mood. There is nothing ‘authentic’ about their chicken katsu, European-style slabs of meat with a Japanese crumb coating, perched on sticky rice from south-east Asia sitting in a puddle of Indian Korma sauce with added chillies – but I enjoyed it (see below).

Pre dinner gin, All Bar One, Harrogate

Update
Katsu Curry 2020

That was my first brush with Katsu Curry, now it is ubiquitous; I have had it in my local pub and bought a jar in a supermarket to make it at home. But I had previously eaten in any number of Indian Restaurants, and enjoyed curries across India and much of the rest of South East Asia, how had I missed it for so long? Simples, I hadn't.

The British took curry to Japan at the start of the 20th century. Given the usual British taste it was a mild curry, and their curry sauce soon became very popular. Japanese for curry is karē.Karē sauce is often served with a breaded pork cutlet, in Japanese a katsu, this is called a katsu karē. When it was introduced here (or, in a way, re-introduced) in the 21st century, the katsu became the sauce, not the breaded pork cutlet (we've always been so good at languages!)