Matthew Paris (c.1200-1259). Photograph by the British Library., Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
A new seven week Zoom class will be starting on Monday 29 September, 2025 – on the topic of a history of Britain in maps. I’ve started planning the classes in readiness to advertise them by the end of next week and have side tracked myself with Matthew Paris, the thirteenth century monk from St Albans, who I usually write about in terms of his chronicles of English history – the Chronica Majora and Historia Anglorum. I
Paris, who seems to have done his own illustrations, included a self portrait in the Historia Anglorum and for the purposes of the forthcoming class – a map that located more than 250 places. He also showed rivers, Hadrian’s Wall and the Antonine Wall. It’s thought that the monk may have used an earlier Roman map as an example. He also created a map to guide pilgrims from England to the Holy Land. Inevitably the journey started in London which was drawn with the Tower of London and St Paul’s Cathedral as well as London Bridge.
The map of Britain, dating from about 1250, can be found at the British Library but there’s a rather wonderful online annotated version that provides additional information. Now all I have to do is to decide what I should include in the seven weeks – obviously the Hereford Mappa Mundi and the Gough Map of Britain, John Stow, Henry VIII’s coastal defence map, inevitably Gerald of Wales gets in on the act and then there’re John Ogilby’s road maps – actually I think strip maps of the kind that Ogilby made will be one session in their own right – Matthew Paris will appear alongside Ogilby, The Antonine Itinerary and Matthew Simons guidance for travellers dating to 1635.
Autumn’s class should be live for booking by the beginning of next week. There will also be a solitary Christmas class on Monday 1 December – A Bronte Christmas which I am rather excited about.
Christian Cavendish, Countess of Devonshire by Anthony Van Dyck via Wikipedia.
I keep returning to Christian. She doesn’t always seem very appealing though, Dorothy Sidney, Countess of Leicester (and briefly governess to Charles I’s younger children Elizabeth and Henry following his execution) found her crafty and cold when it came to financial matters during negotiations between the Sidneys and Christian for her son to marry Lady Dorothy Sidney. The Sidneys could not supply a large enough dowry so Christian’s son ended up married to Elizabeth Cecil, a daughter of the 2nd Earl of Salisbury.
Apparently Christian Bruce, the daughter of Edward Bruce, 1st lord of Kinloss was one of Elizabeth Stuart’s companions at Combe Abbey where she was raised by John Harington of Eaton and his wife. So, she received an extensive education even if it did not contain a grounding in Latin and Greek. Combe Abbey is now a hotel but the parkland is open to the public.
She was married in 1608 to William Cavendish, 2nd Earl of Devonshire. No doubt her dowry of £100,000 helped to seal the deal. Her new husband, who was eighteen-years-old, went off to Cambridge University with his tutor, Thomas Hobbes, before tackling the Grand Tour. He departed for Europe in 1610 and got into the usual scrapes that youthful aristocracy might be expected to find themselves.
At the time Christian was only about twelve years old but the marriage was almost over before it began. William, or Wylkyn, as he was known within his family was in love with someone else. Margaret Chatterton, a servant of William’s aunt, Arbella Stuart, and formerly of Wiliam’s mother, claimed that William had promised to marry her. Quite what William’s father thought of the matter is best not speculated upon. The baron, as he was at that time, was known to take after his mother, Bess of Hardwick, when it came to careful husbanding of his assets. William’s uncle, Henry Cavendish, wrote that it was a shame that the boy wasn’t married to a ‘grown woman’ rather than a child. Henry who was the eldest of Bess of Hardwick’s sons had something of a reputation, so his view is perhaps not surprising. He died the same year that his nephew and Christian were married which meant that William’s father inherited Chatsworth.
Christian became Countess of Devonshire in 1626 when her father-in-law died. Two years later, her husband also died. Her ten-year-old son, another William, became the 3rd Earl of Devonshire. Christian set about restoring the family fortunes which were somewhat depleted thanks to the 2nd earl’s exuberant spending. This involved winning more than thirty legal cases over contested property rights. It took four years but at the end of it, in 1630, she was able to offer Thomas Hobbes a salary as tutor having declared in 1628 that her son was too young for a tutor to save the expense.
Unfortunately for Christian, her son did not understand that his father’s creditors could claim the money they were owed from his estates – it meant that mother and son were soon at loggerheads and that Thomas Hobbes was being asked to help both sides. Ultimately Parliament was called upon to pass an act which allowed the countess to sell some previously entailed land to settle her husband’s debts.
As if finances weren’t worrying enough there was the small matter of the English Civil War. William’s cousin, yet another William Cavendish, the Earl of Newcastle, was loyal to the Crown. Christian is usually regarded as the reason why the Earl of Devonshire chose to absent himself from his country rather than join one side or the other. According to the De Lisle and Dudley manuscript – William may have enjoyed spending lavishly but generally speaking, he did what his mother told him. It was the earl’s younger brother, Charles Cavendish, who took to the field and who died for the royal cause at Gainsborough. Despite the fact that Christian was a friend of Henrietta Maria, the Devonshire estate had to be preserved – Bess of Hardwick would have approved the calculations that Christian made when she called her son home to compound for his estates before the end of the war.
Christian and William chose to live at Latimers in Buckinghamshire rather than returning to Derbyshire. She was well connected to the Parliamentarian forces. She was grandmother-in-law to Frances Cromwell, through the marriage of Robert Rich (he died soon after the marriage.) Her daughter Anne was married to Robert Rich, 3rd Earl of Warwick. Meanwhile, the Earl of Devonshire was required to remain aloof from the conflict that still raged but the countess offered the king refuge at Leicester Abbey after the Battle of Naseby and later stayed at Latimer’s while he was a prisoner. She took charge of Charles II’s belongings after the Battle of Worcester and became embroiled in the work of the Seal Knot. Even so, after the Restoration, the Earl of Devonshire chose to remain in the country rather than spending much time at court. He was made Lord Lieutenant of Derbyshire and in 1663 joined the newly formed Royal Society.
Christian welcomed Charles II and Henrietta Maria to her home. When she died in 1675 she was described as being ‘affable and of sweet address’ – presumably her biographer had not been on the receiving end of financial bargain with the countess…now I just need to find out much more….
Yes I know it’s Tuesday! I had a slight mishap with the publishing toggles…I should have found a ten -year-old to navigate the system for me. Anyway, some of you will remember that Jo published Forgotten Women of the Wars of the Roses last year. This year she is exploring the Tudors and is having a launch event in Caversham. Follow the link to find out more. I
I’ve written about the Augustinians of Dunstable before but I’m trying to decide whether I want to keep Medieval Dunstable (edited by Yates, Jean ) or not. It was one of five houses founded by King Henry I. By the time he died there were nearly two hundred Augustinian monastic houses in England which just goes to show how keen his nobility were to get into his good books. Apparently The Augustinians were not an enclosed order. The canons were all ordained priests who chose to live as a monastic community; they served the neighbourhoods where they lived as priests and offered hospitality. And that’s one of the reasons why Dunstable ended up with lands in Derbyshire. Situated on Watling Street, it was one of the busiest medieval roads in the kingdom but unlike the hotel chain which advertises a good night’s sleep the canons were unable to charge for the food and lodgings they offered. Instead, they were given gifts by grateful travellers.
Much of the monastic land was in the Dunstable environs as were the churches to which the canons held the advowson – or the right to appoint the priest. They also held land and churches in Buckinghamshire and, this is where I become interested, Derbyshire. Bradbourne Manor which was part of the Honour of Tutbury lay in the hands of the Cauceis family. Sir Godfrey de Cauceis granted the chapels at Ballidon, Brassington, Tissington and Atlow to the canons as well as the tithes at Aldwark and Lee Hall. (Yates, Jean, (Ed.), ‘Churches and Lands: Buckinghamshire, Derbyshire, Hertfordshire, Leicestershire, Northamptonshire & Oxfordshire’, in Medieval Dunstable, p.231.)
Unfortunately Godfrey died the following year and although the gift was confirmed, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Coventry kept episcopal and parish rights for himself. With so many fingers in the pie it is perhaps not surprising that the prior at Dunstable took matters further. In 1215 the case went to Rome and three judges were appointed to take a closer look at the Peak District churches. The rector at Bradbourne, Robert, was the son of the previous incumbent and yes, Henry the vicar at Ballidon was also the progeny of the previous cleric. Both men were described as being incontinent – which has nothing to do with the modern meaning and more to do with the keeping of mistresses. I suppose that it’s only fair that William who was the chaplain at Tissington kept moth mistresses and hunting dogs. As a result of these discoveries, which all three men denied, the canons at Dunstable were allowed to appoint new vicars.
And just when it seems you’ve got a handle on these things in 1230, Pope Gregory extracted a tenth tax on the income from Dunstable’s Peak District churches. In 1242 the canons required a new charter for the church at Bradbourne because the old one was nibbled by mice. In the decades that followed the canons made an annual visit to the Peak District to inspect the books – and possibly to enjoy the countryside. Not that it was always plain sailing. Sheep, as any hill farmer will tell you, are quite keen on finding innovative ways to die and there were several years when disease took its toll but in general the wool trade was a profitable one at this time.
And it turns out that the canons held church rights along Watling Street while at Pattishall, the lord of the manor came to an agreement with the prior for him to stay three times a year depending on the number of horses he had with him (Yates, p.240.). The Augustinians already owned land in Northamptonshire – think of it as joining the dots. And there was the Augustinian Priory at Repton, virtually on the doorstep.
Dunstable’s ownership of various Peak District lands and churches came to an end in 1540 with its dissolution. However, Medieval Dunstable is going back to its place on the bookshelf – the section about Derbyshire is small but extremely useful and I have been reminded that I need to retake photos of the various churches that Dunstable held but possibly not on a day when the rain is coming in horizontally.
I know I’ve posted about Katherine Swynford before- she even features in a chapter of Medieval Royal Mistresses. However, Kathrine by Anya Seton is one of my favourite historical novels, so the chances of me not writing about her again were slim. The novel dates from 1954 and has stood the test of time.
Katherine de Roet, the daughter of a minor Flemish knight, and her sister Philippa begin the tale as part of Philippa of Hainault’s household. It’s likely that their father came to England with the queen when she married Edward III. Philippa is married to Geoffrey Chaucer while Katherine is married to Sir Hugh Swynford, an impoverished knight from Lincolnshire. Â Seton, who is writing a novel, changes Katherine’s age to make her slightly older than she probably was in fact. What was acceptable in the fourteenth century is not something that is acceptable in modern times. A novelist can change ages – a historian has to provide the facts, and in Katherine’s case this involves potential ages and analysis of known facts both for Katherine and of known medieval averages to arrive at the most likely year for her birth and her marriage.
Swynford isn’t necessarily the most sympathetic of characters and that’s where fact and fiction part company. Quite simply we know very little about him – https://thehistoryjar.com/2017/07/14/sir-hugh-swynford/ or his relationship with Katherine. The historical record, unsurprisingly, is a blank. A novelist can fill in the blank – a historian cannot.
After Hugh’s death – and that’s where papal dispensations and account rolls provide us with historical evidence, Katherine, who is the governess to John of Gaunt’s daughters, begins an affair with the duke – although who started what is a matter of speculation rather than fact. Evidence of their relationship, explored in the non fiction work by Alison Weir, including the birth of four children, gifts, visits, monastic chronicles, court records, and the Peasant’s Revolt provide primary source evidence. The fact that Katherine married John in 1396 and that their children were subsequently legitimised provides a paper trail of evidence that would otherwise have been lacking. What makes Katherine remarkable, is that history knows as much about her as it does.
And just so we’re clear – Seton is able to develop the story of Katherine of John’s relationship because she is writing a work of fiction. The research is impeccable but while Alison Weir can only write about what the evidence provides, Seton can enhance the plot line; provide a narrative for what happened to Katherine while she was absent from the existing historical record; and use dialogue to develop character. Both writers make sound use of the sources and tell Katherine’s story but Seton does not have to rely on verifiable facts. A good historical novelist like Anya Seton does extensive research before putting pen to paper but no one should be quoting anything in a novel as historic fact, no matter how good it might be.
My favourite verifiable, historical fact is that on Valentine’s Day 1382, Gaunt issued Katherine with a legal document which said that neither of them owed each other anything. It was a formal renunciation of property rights. The quitclaim, to give the document its correct name, ended their ten year old affair. No one could now take away from Katherine anything that the duke had given to her. She was independent and safe. It’s an unusual Valentine – but John of Gaunt was a hated figure at this time. The Peasant’s Revolt of the previous year had seen his London residence at The Savoy burned to the ground. The Church was attacking him because of the protection he offered to John Wycliffe. Monastic chroniclers attacked Katherine in order to damage the duke. There was also the small matter of Gaunt’s second wife, Constanza of Castile and Gaunt’s desire to win himself a crown of his own.
And if you like to compare writers – Anne O’Brien’s The Scandalous Duchess is also about Katherine Swynford.
The first thing I recall about Matilda is the story, told I think in J.R. Unstead’s book, about the girl who turned her nose up at the prospect of marrying an illegitimate Duke of Normandy. A stand up fight followed, at which point Matilda decided she did want to marry William. It does make a good story! It’s perhaps not surprising that Joanna Courtney’s novel The Conqueror’s Queen contains a summary of this tale in its blurb. It also develops the narrative about Matilda’s romance with an Anglo-Saxon thegn. The difference between history and historical fiction being that tales and rumours can be embroidered in the latter but not the former. Although this didn’t seem to unduly bother the writer of the Chronicle of Tours, written some two hundred years after Matilda’s life. It was this document that provided all those tall stories about William’s diminutive wife..and that was a later story.
In reality, little is known about the historical figure of Matilda. Information about women often has to be picked out from a narrative that is more interested in warfare than family politics. William of Poitiers described Matilda’s arrival at Rouen and clearly William respected his bride – she acted as his regent. He also ensured that she spent almost all the early years of her married life giving birth to their children. What we don’t know is how involved she was in the duke’s politicking, or whether Edward the Confessor promised the growing family a kingdom – Courtney weaves a well thought out tale using Norman sources as her guide. Tracey Norman, whose autobiography of Matilda, is a must read, is required to be more nuanced.
During the 1070s problems for Matilda and William arose because their son, Robert, rebelled against his overbearing father. It seems that Matilda, who was something of a model wife, chose her son who was described in the Orderic Vitalis as being decadent, spendthrift and …er…all those other unwise things that rebelling sons get described as. Tensions between father and son boiled over in 1077/1078. Robert took himself off to Flanders but Matilda continued to correspond with him, and sent him money. When William found out, he gave orders for the queen’s messenger, a man named Samson, to be arrested and blinded. The Orderic Vitalis concludes the tale with the information that Matilda was able to find the man refuge in a monastery. The best indication of William’s wrath, however, lies in the fact that Matilda never acted as regent in her own right again. The rift was patched up but historians cannot say much more unless it’s couched in terms of ‘ifs, whats and maybes’ – a novel writer has much more to play with.
What is certain about the queen’s life is that a papal dispensation was required for consanguinity before the pair could marry; that Matilda governed Normandy of William’s behalf before the 1077 revolt; looked to the interests of Flanders and educated her brood of children. To all intents and purposes she was a model wife. Her support for William extended to the purchase and outfitting of the Mora, William’s flagship at the invasion of 1066. When Matilda died in 1083, William was at his wife’s bedside. She was buried in Caen.
Generally speaking, it is thought that William was never unfaithful to her and after she died it is said that he quit hunting, something of a passion with the Norman kings of England. During the four years that were left to him, before his own death, William was described as something of a tyrant. The Orderic Vitalis, described a ‘storm of troubles.’ Borman suggests that without Matilda to influence her husband’s decision making, William became more acquisitive and less concerned about creating harmony between invader and invaded. Almost inevitably, the patched up family relationship between father and son came unravelled. When he died, the funeral was a lacklustre affair with William’s second son, William Rufus hurrying off to claim England before his father was even interred. Only William and Matilda’s youngest son, Henry, attended the funeral at Caen.
When the casket containing Matilda’s incomplete skeleton was opened during the twentieth century she was found to be 5ft tall – which was about average at the time. An earlier measurement taken in 1819 reported that she was about 4ft 2ins tall – a likely miscaluclation but typical of the lack of reliable information about England’s first post-conquest queen .
Joanna Courtney – The Conqueror’s Queen (well researched, effective use of dialogue to create character and build narrative.)
Tracey Borman – Matilda, Queen of the Conqueror. The auto-biography creates a picture of a resolute and intelligent consort
It’s been a busy year and I’m only slightly over half way through it. Preparing the Tudor Kings and Princes to Rule was published at the beginning of the year but since then I’ve submitted the Little History of Nottinghamshire and an A-Z of Colchester. I worked on them across 2024 and 2025. All that remains is for me to check my footnotes for Preparing Stuart Kings and Princesses to Rule and submit it by the beginning of September. You can perhaps see why I’ve gone quiet on the History Jar front for a while.
However, I have a new planner; my bookcase is being tidied up before it finally collapses; and I have a new project to get my teeth into. The Right Little Madam, who isn’t so little these days, has an essay which requires her to compare a work of historical fiction with a non fiction text set in the same time period. She asked me if I could think of any books….oh dear…it was perhaps a question that needed rephrasing. In any event, she’s gone away happy with two books and some suggested additional reading/listening including Hilary Mantel’s 2017 Reith Lectures which are available via I-player.
Meanwhile, we will begin with the Norman Conquest and William’s wife, Matilda tomorrow and then progress from there. I met Joanna Barnden who writes as Joanna Courtney when she came to give a talk at a nearby village, so I will be looking at The Conquerors Queen. It will be good to get back into a routine. Thank you for your patience.
The Lord Leycester, a medieval range of buildings, sits on Warwick’s Westgate, a hop and a skip from the castle. iIs chapel is above the narrow gateway. The chapel was originally built by one of the Norman earls of Warwick on the site of an earlier Saxon one. It was rebuilt in 1383 by the 12th Earl of Warwick – one of the Lords Appellant who opposed Richard II. When Thomas Beauchamp met with the usual fate of men who opposed kings, the chapel was gifted to the Guild of St George. By the 15th century the chapel and the associated site belonged to the amalgamated guilds of Warwick – the Holy Trinity Guild and the Guild of the Blessed Virgin and St George. The United Guilds created a large complex of buildings. The current guildhall was built by Richard Neville a.k.a. The Kingmaker.
Once the Reformation began many guilds lost their lands but in Warwick the guild master passed ownership of the property, and associated rental as far afield as Gloucester and Lancaster to the town’s corporation which meant that the income continued to be used for the benefit of Warwick rather than the king. At one point it even served as Warwick’s grammar school. In 1571, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester established a hospital – somewhere to live- for disabled and infirm soldiers at the request of Queen Elizabeth I. The corporation gave Dudley the guildhall because who wants to irritate Elizabeth Tudor or her favourite. Dudley was keen to please the queen and it raised his credentials as a pious man. The earl ensured that an act of Parliament was passed for the foundation of his hospital – the only private act he ever secured (Howard, p.149) and sent his surveyor, William Spicer to oversee work.
The hospital, which was independent of the town because of its associated with Leicester, accommodated a master, twelve soldiers and their families. It retains its role as an almshouse today but has offered a home to eight retired servicemen since the 1960s rather than the original twelve. When the hospital was first created there was a common kitchen for use by the twelve brethren rather than individual hearths. When Elizabeth I visited Warwick in 1572, the Master of the Hospital was on hand to present her with some verse in Latin to mark the occasion. It was the summer that the Earl of Leicester presented the queen with lavish entertainments as well as matching portraits in a bid to win her hand. The Princely Pleasures at nearby Kenilworth lasted for three weeks.
Meanwhile, the guildhall was used to entertain James I in 1617 and was fortunate to escape the blaze that incinerated much of Warwick in 1694. The courtyard was renovated by the Victorians who added the ornamental gables, plaster bears and Robert Dudley’s crest. The porcupine is the Sidney family crest. Ultimately, it was Dudley’s sister, Mary, who inherited the hospital. Initially the countess of Leicester, Lettice Knollys, claimed some of the estates belonging to the hospital as her dower and withheld the income which belonged to the hospital. (Howard, pp.150-151). It took another Act of Parliament and the support of William Cecil to ensure that the terms of Leicester’s will in the matter of the hospital were honoured.
Howard, Maurice. The Building of Elizabethan and Jacobean England. (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2007)
The Lord Leycester Hospital guidebook
The Lord Leycester Hospital. An Account of the Hospital of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leycester in Warwick (Warwick: HT Cooke and Sons, 1870).
The Medical History portal, about all things medieval and well worth a visit if you haven’t already been there, very kindly invited me to write a guest post for them – which I duly did. It can be found here:
Chatsworth in gingerbread form – Chatsworth at Christmas 2024
Celia visited the Peak District in 1697 during the homeward leg of her journey. Having sampled the ale at Chesterfield, which she thought very fine, Celia and her two servants continued to Chatsworth.
The Peak Districtlandscape
Celia did not much enjoy the journey from Chesterfield to Chatsworth. According to her the hills were too steep and the landscape barren. However she did pause to consider the minerals that Derbyshire contained and, in good Puritan fashion, looked to find God’s work around her – although she doesn’t use the words ‘sublime’ or ‘awe inspiring’ she infers both ideas which would become increasingly popular with the beginning of the Eighteenth Century.
Alll Derbyshire is full of Steep hills and nothing but the peakes of hills as thick one by another is seen in most of ye County wchare very steepe, wch makes travelling tedious and ye miles Long. You see neither hedge nor tree but only Low drye stone walls round some ground Else its only hills and Dales as thick as you Can Imagine, but tho’ the Surface of ye Earth Looks barren yet those hills are impregnated wth Rich marble stone metals, Iron and Copper and Coale mines in their bowells, from whence we may see the wisdom and benignitye of oer greate Creator to make up the Defficiency of a place by an Equivolent, and also the diversity of the Creation wch Encreaseth its Beauty.
Chatsworth, the Duke of Devonshire and the Glorious Revolution
One of the difficulties of writing about individuals is that it’s easy to get caught up in their lives and ignore what’s happening on the political stage at the time. In this instance William Cavendish, the 4th Earl of Devonshire was one of the so-called ‘Glorious Seven’ who supported the deposition of James II and who invited James’ son-in-law, William and the former king’s daughter Mary to take the throne in his stead. The Glorious Revolution happened in 1688 – so still less than a decade before Celia made her journey. The earl became the 1st Duke of Devonshire in 1694 and Marquis of Hartington. Unsurprisingly he set about turning the family seat into something rather splendid. At the time of Celia’s visit, Chatsworth was being transformed into a baroque palace. It’s possible that Grinling Gibbons was busily carving in the chapel at Chatsworth or elsewhere in the house at the time of Celia’s visit, or else the work was being completed by Derbyshire craftsman, Samuel Watson. Inevitably Ms Fiennes enjoyed her visit, describing the house and ornate seventeenth century gardens in some detail.
Bakewell and Haddon Hall
More hills and steep inclines but Celia found the town both ‘pretty’ and ‘neat’ – adjectives which still apply. By the end of Celia’s journey it is clear that she visited many stately homes – and all without the aid of a National Trust or Historic Houses card. To Celia, Haddon seemed rather old fashioned – which is its appeal these days.
Buxton and St Anne’s Well
Both Chatsworth and St Anne’s Well were described as wonders of the Peak but Celia was not impressed with the latter, nor with Buxton’s beer or the accommodation offered by the Duke at the hotel there:
the beer they allow at the meales is so bad yt very Little Can be dranke. You pay not for yr bed roome and truely the other is so unreasonable a price and yeLodgings so bad, 2 beds in a Roome some 3 beds and 4 in one roome, so that if you have not Company Enough of your own to fill a Room they will be ready to put others into the same Chamber, and sometymes they are so Crowded that three must Lye in a bed. Few people stay above two or three nights its so Inconvenient. We staid two nights by reason one of our Company was ill, but it was sore against our Wills for there is no peace nor quiet with one Company and another going into the bath or Coming out; that makes so many strive to be in this house because the bath is in it. Its about 40 foot Long and about 20 or 30 ffoote broad being almost square. There is 10 or 12 springs that bubble up that are a Little warme, its not so warme as milke from ye Cow, and not a quick spring, so yt its not Capable of being Cleansed after Everybody has been in. Its warme Enough just to Open the pores of ones body, but not to Cause sweat, I was in it and it made me shake, its farre from the heate that is in the Somersetshire baths. Its Cover’d over the top, but not Ceiled and there is an open place in the middle like a Tunnell wch pours the Cold down on ye head, it would in my thoughts be better if it were Exposed all to ye aire and sunn. There is a pavemt of Stone on one side at ye brim to walke on, with benches of Stone to Sitt on. You must have a guide ytSwims with you, you may Stand in some place and hold by a Chaine and ye water is not above yr Neck, but in other parts very deep and strong it will turn you down. About 10 or 12 yards distant is a spring Called St Anns Well wch is for drinking, they have arch’d it up yt its much hotter, it heates ye Cup you take it up in but not or near so hot as ye Somersetshire baths and springs are, the taste is not unpleasant but Rather like Milk, they say its Diaretick – I dranke a part of a Cup full.
I’m not sure I would describe Buxton water as tasting like milk but Celia was something of an expert.
Poole’s Cavern, Mam Tor, Peak Cavern and Tideswell
Celia who must have read a copy of Thomas Hobbe’s De Mirabilibus Pecci: Being The Wonders of the Peak in Darby-shire, Commonly called The Devil’s Arse of Peak took the opportunity to visit both Poole’s Cavern, Mam Tor and Peak Cavern at Castleton. Her journal describes her scrambling over rocks and wading waist deep in water with a company of other ladies and gentlemen – which rather changes my view of seventeenth century aristocratic women. For some reason I cannot imagine Celia spending her days with embroidery! Although of course, I could be wrong the two activities are not mutually exclusive.
I can definitely see that Celia liked a checklist of places to visit on her adventures (rather like me on my holidays) because she also went to Tideswell to see the well which ebbed and flowed with the spring rains. The tidal aspect of the spring stopped at the end of the Eighteenth Century
Celia and her two servants departed the Peak District by way of Ashbourne having explored the area and taken the waters in the way that tourists would continue to do through the following centuries. These days she might be rather more impressed with Buxton’s spa hotel and swimming pool.
