Once upon a time, a fairly small-deal Yorkshire landowner and businessman, Sir John Aislabie, became Chancellor of the Exchequer because nobody
else wanted to be. They thought finance was a bit beneath them, all those aristos. A gang of traders called the South Sea Company came to him and
suggested they take on board Britain's National Debt in return for shares, which were a sure bet because the Company was going to make untold
amounts of money in the new markets of the far seas. The shares inflated and inflated. It was called the South Sea Bubble. Then they collapsed.
When the smoke cleared and thousands were ruined, it was noticed that Sir John, who'd bought plenty of South Sea shares himself, had sold them
just at the right moment. His public reputation was destroyed, but he'd made a massive fortune to console him in his disgrace. Part of the
consolation was the estate at Studley Royal, where he remodelled the landscape around the most colossal garden ornament in Britain, Fountains
Abbey. It was a Classical garden, all about reason, order and tranquility. John's son William, however, bought Hackfall, and did something very
different with it.
'Hackfall', it was said, was 'Hag's Fall', the abode of witches. In fact it means 'bend in the river', but it was an expressive error. The River Ure cut
here a gorge through the Yorkshire hills, a dramatic, haunted landscape of precipices, cliffs and cascades. It was already a Gothic landscape.
William Aislabie set about accentuating that thrilling shuddersome glen with ruins and vistas, making the cascades a bit more exciting, the views a bit
more interesting.
The garden became, as these places often did, a tourist attraction, and remained so well into the 20th century. Then, around the time of the War, it
was forgotten along with so much else, and the ruinous forces of the natural world began taking the landscape back. Over the last decade, the
Woodland Trust has begun managing the wood again; the Hackfall Trust has rescued the remaining buildings, and the Landmark Trust has pulled
one of them back from the brink, quite literally, of destruction, as one of its weird holiday lets.
else wanted to be. They thought finance was a bit beneath them, all those aristos. A gang of traders called the South Sea Company came to him and
suggested they take on board Britain's National Debt in return for shares, which were a sure bet because the Company was going to make untold
amounts of money in the new markets of the far seas. The shares inflated and inflated. It was called the South Sea Bubble. Then they collapsed.
When the smoke cleared and thousands were ruined, it was noticed that Sir John, who'd bought plenty of South Sea shares himself, had sold them
just at the right moment. His public reputation was destroyed, but he'd made a massive fortune to console him in his disgrace. Part of the
consolation was the estate at Studley Royal, where he remodelled the landscape around the most colossal garden ornament in Britain, Fountains
Abbey. It was a Classical garden, all about reason, order and tranquility. John's son William, however, bought Hackfall, and did something very
different with it.
'Hackfall', it was said, was 'Hag's Fall', the abode of witches. In fact it means 'bend in the river', but it was an expressive error. The River Ure cut
here a gorge through the Yorkshire hills, a dramatic, haunted landscape of precipices, cliffs and cascades. It was already a Gothic landscape.
William Aislabie set about accentuating that thrilling shuddersome glen with ruins and vistas, making the cascades a bit more exciting, the views a bit
more interesting.
The garden became, as these places often did, a tourist attraction, and remained so well into the 20th century. Then, around the time of the War, it
was forgotten along with so much else, and the ruinous forces of the natural world began taking the landscape back. Over the last decade, the
Woodland Trust has begun managing the wood again; the Hackfall Trust has rescued the remaining buildings, and the Landmark Trust has pulled
one of them back from the brink, quite literally, of destruction, as one of its weird holiday lets.
And here it is - The Ruin. A strange little
banqueting house, originally, a Gothic pavilion
on one side and a Romanesque wreck on the
other. The point of this structure, apart from
providing a pleasant place for Aislabie guests
(and later the tourists) to enjoy a bit of
refreshment, was to frame a surprise view as
dramatic as Sir John's arrangement of
Fountains Abbey at Studley Royal. Early
visitors were conveyed along the road from
Ripon with no idea that they were on high
ground. They would draw up outside The Ruin,
and were met by Sir William, who would lead
them inside, and then throw open the doors on
the far side.
banqueting house, originally, a Gothic pavilion
on one side and a Romanesque wreck on the
other. The point of this structure, apart from
providing a pleasant place for Aislabie guests
(and later the tourists) to enjoy a bit of
refreshment, was to frame a surprise view as
dramatic as Sir John's arrangement of
Fountains Abbey at Studley Royal. Early
visitors were conveyed along the road from
Ripon with no idea that they were on high
ground. They would draw up outside The Ruin,
and were met by Sir William, who would lead
them inside, and then throw open the doors on
the far side.
| The doors revealed a view that ranged over the gorge of Hackfall itself, and beyond - way, way beyond, in fact as far beyond as the hill of Roseberry Topping some 35 miles away. |
And just along the hilltop is the Gothic Kitchen,
built a short while after The Ruin, to allow the
servants to prepare a few little light 14-course
snacks for the guests.
built a short while after The Ruin, to allow the
servants to prepare a few little light 14-course
snacks for the guests.
Other follies of which a good deal still remains are Mowbray Castle, named after the medieval lords of Hackfall, and Fisher's Hall - named rather
nicely after Sir William's gardener.
nicely after Sir William's gardener.
One of the ways Hackfall dramatises its landscape is to ensure that the follies are visible from one another. The Ruin looks down the gorge on
Fisher's Hall; the Rustic Temple and Fisher's Hall frame views up to The Ruin at the top of its precipice.
Fisher's Hall; the Rustic Temple and Fisher's Hall frame views up to The Ruin at the top of its precipice.
The Hackfall environment is exciting anyway, but wherever you look the natural features are
heightened and tweaked to make them even more lively; the Forty Foot Falls rumbles away in the
valley below The Ruin, while steps and walks run around cliffs within the woods such as Raven
Scar and Ling Scar.
heightened and tweaked to make them even more lively; the Forty Foot Falls rumbles away in the
valley below The Ruin, while steps and walks run around cliffs within the woods such as Raven
Scar and Ling Scar.
The woods are alive with water cascading and running through the trees, but here again the natural endowments of the landscape have been
exploited and accentuated. This wasn't all down to Sir William Aislabie, but also to the Earl of Ripon, a 19th-century owner of the garden, who
added a number of waterfalls, walks and stairways to make the woods more accessible to day-trippers, even constructing steps up the side of
the Forty Foot Falls.
exploited and accentuated. This wasn't all down to Sir William Aislabie, but also to the Earl of Ripon, a 19th-century owner of the garden, who
added a number of waterfalls, walks and stairways to make the woods more accessible to day-trippers, even constructing steps up the side of
the Forty Foot Falls.
The western edge of Hackfall is marked by two stern gateposts like
diminutive obelisks either side of the path, while on its eastern side is a
feature accounts never seem to mention, but one I was naturally keen
to see, the Dropping Well. Presumably Sir William would have known
about Mother Shipton's famous Dropping Well at Knaresborough not
far away, and turned this spring into his own version. The
well-chamber is artificial, and I think the tufa limestone deposits
which decorate it inside have been deliberately added as well rather
than left by the water itself. It's clearly part of the romantic garden,
but you have to scramble through the undergrowth to reach it.
diminutive obelisks either side of the path, while on its eastern side is a
feature accounts never seem to mention, but one I was naturally keen
to see, the Dropping Well. Presumably Sir William would have known
about Mother Shipton's famous Dropping Well at Knaresborough not
far away, and turned this spring into his own version. The
well-chamber is artificial, and I think the tufa limestone deposits
which decorate it inside have been deliberately added as well rather
than left by the water itself. It's clearly part of the romantic garden,
but you have to scramble through the undergrowth to reach it.
At the bottom of the
valley, of course, runs
the thunderous River
Ure, a sinister and
threatening presence
whose voice can be
heard all around the
gardens. It seemed to
be thoroughly in spate
in October 2008.
valley, of course, runs
the thunderous River
Ure, a sinister and
threatening presence
whose voice can be
heard all around the
gardens. It seemed to
be thoroughly in spate
in October 2008.
| Hackfall is, bit by bit, emerging from its ruin; but perhaps it should not venture out too far. The slightly twee follies of the 18th century are now dramatically lovely wrecks in the 21st, and the ghosts hang all the thicker around them for it. Some buildings are gone, and while the stones of two grottos remain it's difficult to see them being resurrected. The Weeping Rock, however, could do with being uncovered: I can't work out where it should be, in any case. More information on Hackfall can be found here and here. |
