BIDDULPH OLD HALL, STAFFORDSHIRE
Historical Notes by Michael G. Bond
Biddulph Hall Gardens and Castle Ruins
From which ever approach the visitor takes, Biddulph Old Hall and the castle ruins make a dramatic and unforgettable sight. If approach is made through “The Clough” and the Yew avenue, the castle will suddenly present itself as the pathway opens out onto a flat, manmade plain, lying as a huge green carpet before the gaunt, stirring, Elizabethan front of the castle, the tower and central archway forming a splendid focal point. If approach is from the East along the rugged driveway, a hint of mystery is created as the foliage of trees and bushes tantalizingly screen a full view of the house, until the last bend in the drive reveals the enchanting and ancient sloping roof of the hall, broken by old gables and chimneys, and crowned by the tower, which dominates the building from any angle. Only from the trackway traversing the fields below the site to the West do we get any impression that here was a fortified dwelling, as the stark, west face of the castle dominates the relatively small, adjacent wing of the hall. Only when seeing the site from the West are we tempted to use the term “castle, ” for what must appear a serene and peaceful abode, though the sense of “past history” hangs heavily over the site.
The history of the hall and the history of the Biddulph family are inevitably inseparable. The rise and fall of the Biddulph family was the rise and fall of this great house. Within the very stones here can he seen the Biddulph’s wealth and poverty. The story does not begin here but some mile or so to the South-west, where a hillock encompassed by a ditch, indicates the site of the first Biddulph castle. Here, in the days of the conqueror, must have stood a primitive stockade touched on one side by the valley river flowing into the Dane. How long the Biddulph’s stayed here we are not sure, but the site appears to have been inhabited until the fourteenth century. Did the Biddulph’s build a second castle close to the site of the present church as legend suggests, or did they move to this hillside site? Either theory is feasible, for the ruins which we now see certainly appear to contain masonry from an earlier period than the date stone on the South facade suggests. What we do know for certain is that large scale building took place here in the reign of Elizabeth the first, culminating in the fine south wing in 1580. The material used was stone quarried on the estate, and timber grown close by. The design was a compromise between fortification on the north and west sides, and domestic architecture on the south and east. In all probability the south was the last side to he completed, and shows a strange, provincial rendering of the English renaissance style with its classical details. The north side of the house would have been the main entrance.
Originally the castle is thought to have had four towers. The plan was quadrangular, a central courtyard being surrounded by state and domestic apartments. We can imagine what the rooms of the castle must have been like from the fine large windows they possessed, and there are indications of the great hall, long gallery, and kitchen range.
As the castle was being built, the environs of the building also were undergoing reconstruction. What must have been a bleak hillside was transformed into a flat, grassy area to accommodate the fashionable pastimes of the day. This area was surrounded by banks, perhaps for the seating of spectators.
Thus at the turn of the seventeenth century we see the Biddulph’s at the height of their prosperity which was to be short lived for the Civil War was to bring ruin to them and their castle. As Royalists the Biddulph’s pledged support for Charles the first when he declared war against parliament. In 1643 John Biddulph rode out to fight at Hopton Heath and was killed. His son, Francis volunteered to take his father’s place in the war, and placed Lord Brereton of nearby Brereton Hall in Cheshire, in Charge of his castle at Biddulph. Lord Brereton considered that Biddulph Castle was more defensible than Brereton Hall, and so moved into the castle with his wife and child in 1644. Meanwhile his uncle, Sir William Brereton, the great parliamentarian commander, returning from his victor over Nantwich, heard about his nephew’s defence against the Roundhead cause. He set out with an army to lay siege to Biddulph castle. At Astbury his troops desecrated the church, and after marching through “Nick-O-the Hill” took position on the sloping ground to the west of the castle in preparation for siege. The castle garrison was prepared too, confident in the knowledge that the western side of the castle was the strongest and best defended. After a futile attempt at siege, Sir William quartered his men on the local peasants and sent to Stafford for heavy artillery to bombard the castle walls. Lord Brereton and the castle garrison refused to surrender and re-enforced the castle walls with sand bags.
Among the artillery sent to Sir William’s aid was a large cannon nick-named “Roaring Meg.” The local people became angry at the length of the siege and the inconvenience of having troops billeted on them and advised Sir William that the weakest side of the castle was the east. Thus the parliamentarians moved their positions and “Roaring Meg” and bombarded the house from the east. Few shots were needed, for a well-aimed one struck a major part of the castle’s structure, and so violently shook the building that Lord Brereton’s wife begged him to surrender for the sake of her child’s life. Thus the castle was given up to the hands of Sir William and his parliamentarians, who entered and plundered it, taking many prisoners and weapons.
After the siege was over the castle was slighted, but its complete destruction was caused by the local people, who, seeking revenge on the stubborn castle garrison, ransacked the building and removed much of the fabric. The place was left the sad ruin that we see it today, still with the cannon ball holes marking the walls.
Francis Biddulph was taken prisoner at the fall of Chester and was confined at Eccleshall castle for two years. After the war the family retired to the quiet of their house at Rushton and abandoned their confiscated estate at Biddulph for some years. While at Rushton, they were to suffer tragedy again. Though Francis’ fortunes were greatly diminished, he was still able to maintain an Italian governess for his children. The governess, known as “Singing Kate, ” was to be struck down by the plague in 1643, and she together with some of the Biddulph children, died. Their house was shunned as a pest-house and Francis had to beg for food in Congleton.
After the restoration of the Monarchy the estate was given back to the family. Francis had not the means to replace the destroyed castle, and set about building a modest sandstone manor house onto the north side of the castle ruins in 1670. He re-used both timber and stone from the ruins and carved his initials onto a beam in the new house. His dwelling consisted of a lofty dining chamber, with drawing room and kitchen offices. Above was a range of modest sleeping quarters. A traditional timber staircase rose from a corner of the dining chamber and humble panelling was used to add comfort. At the same time an avenue of yew trees was planted on the top of the Elizabethan mounds in the grounds together with a box avenue. At the opening of the eighteenth century a kitchen wing with two large sleeping chambers above was added to the west of the manor house. Little is known about the estate during the eighteenth century. It was probably tenanted out as a farm, for Francis Biddulph had left for London where his son was married. We know nothing of his end.
Interest in the place seems to have been re-juvenated with the opening of the nineteenth century and the Romantic Movement. The house had a large east wing added to it standing on the site of the ancient chapel. Judging from the religious symbols carved on its exterior, this wing itself may have been used as a chapel. A local artist rented the house which became romantically overgrown and a mock Tudor doorway was added while a number of windows were altered. A flight of exterior steps was added to the east wing and the interior was somewhat altered.
It is to the nineteenth century that we owe the present form of the hall gardens, though much was added and a little modified in the present century. Mr. Bateman, the horticulturalist, is said to have taken an interest in the grounds which have remained pleasantly informal. They have become well known locally for their display of daffodils, bluebells and roses in their season. The garden itself, however, by the fact that much of it is planted over the top of the castle ruins, keeps hidden the answers to many, as yet, unanswered questions. The most tantalizing is, does the secret passage really exist? It is documented in early accounts of the siege as having aided a servant named “Trusty” to provide food for the castle garrison, and the entrance is said to have been discovered and re-sealed not long ago. Only detailed excavation will answer the question.
© M. J. C. Bond March 1971