One of the things that makes English houses so appealing is the history and folklore behind them: each one tells a story and the older the house, the more chapters that story has. As the primary purpose of any house is a practical one, the bones of any centuries-old dwelling indicate how each space, nook and cranny would have been used in days gone by. And the residents, architects and designers of the houses of yesteryear were undeniably ingenious, conceiving of practical and aesthetic solutions to many of the problems that they faced.
Take the ‘wig warmer’, for instance. Supposedly, these little hatches found either side of a fireplace in pre-19th-century houses were strategically positioned to keep wigs (very much in vogue during the 17th century and into the 18th) warm but not too hot. Fireplaces elsewhere in the house often came with their own nooks that served a room-specific purpose. In kitchens little wooden ones were used to keep salt dry and prevent it from sticking together. The designer Anna Haines has also found a rather charming nook next to a fireplace in a dining room. ‘I was working on a magical listed house and came across a small cupboard built into the wall next to the fireplace. The heritage officer told us this one had originally been used to warm plates. We decided to leave it intact, and the clients now use it as a sweet little bookshelf! It became a great talking point whenever they entertained,’ she explains.
On the subject of wigs, interior designer and historic house specialist Patrick Williams, of Berdoulat, in Bath, has encountered an even grander space dedicated to them: ‘there is a house on the famous King's Circus in Bath with a protruding cylindrical room at the back. Rumour has it that this was a “wig room”, lined with shelves carrying wigs, and purposefully set outside the main building so as to keep the wigs cool,’ he says. ‘Presumably this was to discourage various vile moths or fleas that might seek to make their homes between the folds of the hair!’. However, the most brilliant wig-related interiors feature we have come across is the ‘wig hole’ – a cubby hole built into a wall, against which party goers could recline while servants on the other side of the wall could inconspicuously service the wig via the hole.
Among Patrick’s most favourite historic features is a mechanical spit in the main kitchen of Dyrham Park, a 17th-century National Trust property just outside of Bath. As Patrick explains, ‘set within the chimney is a propeller fan, which the warm air from the fire turns as it rises. It's connected to a spit set above the flames. Ingeniously one can pull a lever on the lintel of the chimneypiece that opens or closes a flap inside the flue, enabling more or less hot air to pass through to the propeller, which in turn alters the speed at which the spit turns the meat. Genius!’. A similar example can be found in many historic houses, including Lanhydrock House in Cornwall, pictured above.
Patrick is not the only designer to be taken with a 17th-century quirk. In a recent Georgian rectory project, Chloe Willis, Associate Director at Sibyl Colefax and John Fowler, was delighted to uncover a hidden staircase in the middle of the house. ‘It leads to nowhere,’ explains Chloe. ‘The stairs were blocked off at the top and hidden behind a wall at the bottom’. The likely explanation for these mysterious stairs would be that they were used by servants, keeping the grander staircase at the front of the house clear but allowing servants to move easily and discreetly from their quarters to the working areas of the house. Chloe has built a drinks cupboard into the bottom of the stairs, and a linen cupboard into the top. They are, she says, ‘a useful, fun surprise, and a reminder of the architectural history of the house.’
Hidden spaces were not reserved for servants, however, as Darren Price, Director at ADAM Architecture, explains. ‘I have come across many priest holes in my work. During the reign of Henry VIII and into the Elizabethan era Catholics were under scrutiny and the priests often had to hide. In big country houses they’d create hidden chambers or tunnels in the corner of the room or next to a fireplace to hide the priests in. They were normally disguised by panelling,’ he says, adding that some of these cubbies would have been ‘big enough to get two or three priests in, depending on their size!’
Darren has also encountered many smuggling tunnels, which are most often a feature of houses near the coast. ‘There are lots in Rye and Sussex that are often connected to inns (or former inns). They would smuggle goods such as alcohol in from the incoming ships’.
Not every quirky house feature is as practical, or useful as these hidden spaces, however. Anna Haines recalls a particularly bizarre one from a Grade-II-listed project outside of London. ‘They had a wall mounted thermometer by the front door, so the homeowners could check the temperature before heading out and know whether they needed an extra scarf!’ she explains. The problem here is that presumably once you are outside checking the temperature gauge, you will know how cold you are anyway. Nonetheless, Anna decided to hold onto the redundant device: ‘we thought it was a charmingly practical touch, which of course we retained as a nod to the house's history,’ she says. Perhaps no longer the most useful design features, but whether a wig warmer or a priest hole, what they lack in practicality they make up for in charm, and provide a wonderful conversation starter too.
