A Baden-Baden in our County: Whittle Springs and the Howard Arms Hotel
Embroidered
everywhere with richest dyes,
And curtained o'er with soft and cloudless skies;
Encircled with a zone of beauteous things,
A place of pleasure,—welcome Whittle Springs!
John Critchley Prince, 1856
Who doesn’t love a spa? Who could resist the allure of a wellness weekend in a luxury hotel, with a pool and Jacuzzi, accompanied by the delights of a detoxifying seaweed wrap, a gel overlay manicure, full body exfoliation, hot tone reflexology and colonic hydrotherapy, all with the refreshing aroma of a Gwyneth Paltrow vagina-scented candle? Well, me, actually, but that’s because I’m a grumpy old man. The wellness industry, based in modern spas, employs millions of people world-wide and generates billions of dollars in revenue. It taps into a deep-seated vein in the human psyche, which has long regarded water, especially mineral water, as a therapeutic agent. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, spas, in the traditional sense of the word, were at the cutting edge of medical treatment, as well as becoming the first holiday resorts. And for a few years, Whittle-le-Woods had its very own spa, whose waters were claimed to be “equal to the famed springs of Harrogate, and the still more famous ones of Baden-Baden”. In this article I will relate the story of Whittle Springs, and its place in the history of spas.
Spas in Britain and Europe: Health, Hedonism and Hypochondria
The term ‘Spa’ has been defined by John K Walton as “a mineral springs resort, where visitors ‘take the waters’ on the spot, whether by drinking them or bathing in them”. The term was first applied in the early 14th century to the resort near Liege in Belgium that still bears the name Spa, though its etymology is unclear. Spas were originally medical facilities, taking advantage of natural mineral waters. They proliferated in Europe. Famous spa resorts included Baden-Baden, Bad Ems and Wiesbaden in Germany; Vichy and Aix-les-Bains in France and Marienbad and Karlsbad in the Czech Republic, among hundreds of others. The majority of spa-goers were from the upper classes, for the simple reason that only they could afford the medical and accommodation fees, and had sufficient leisure time. Britain never had the same proliferation of spas as mainland Europe, mainly due to the British preference for sea-bathing. Walton lists ten significant spa towns in England (towns that owe their existence to the presence of a mineral spring): Bath, Epsom, Cheltenham, Leamington, Malvern, Harrogate, Buxton, Matlock, Tunbridge Wells and Clifton Hotwells (now a suburb of Bristol). He also lists a small number of English resorts of a type common on the continent: “the isolated rural spa, with its mineral spring, bath, hotel and gardens, remote from urban civilisation” – including Whittle Springs.
In a fine book about the history of European spas, Ian Bradley identifies three reasons why people visited or stayed at spas: health, hedonism and hypochondria. We will briefly consider each in turn.
Health: As stated above, spas began as medical facilities. ‘Taking the waters’ was prescribed for a wide range of conditions, including rheumatism and arthritis, kidney stones, consumption, gastro-intestinal disorders, skin conditions and infertility and impotence. Treatment regimens were often lengthy and unpleasant. A prescribed course could last for weeks or months, and involve drinking several pints of often foul-tasting waters each day, along with hours soaking in an unhygienic bath. Unsurprisingly, patients frequently experienced severe gastric and urinary disturbances as side effects of their treatment. For the seriously ill, spa treatment must have been as gruelling as chemotherapy is today for those with cancer. However, in an age when medicine was more a matter of faith than science, thousands of desperate individuals put themselves through such cures, sometimes attending many different spas over a period of years.
Hedonism: Diversions and entertainments were originally provided at spas to offset the boredom and stress of the treatment regimes. Early spas opened refreshment rooms, set out landscaped promenades where patients could gain some enjoyment from the daily walks that were often part of their treatments, and put on concerts and other entertainments in the long evenings. As time went on, the formal amusements became attractions in themselves, and by the eighteenth century, spas were catering for healthy members of the upper classes, becoming in effect the first holiday resorts. Spas also became popular as centres for gambling, especially on the Continent, and in the evenings there were dinners and balls. In short, spas became fashionable. The formal attractions inevitably led to the informal enjoyments of illicit or casual sexual relationships. Early spa baths were often unisex, and bathers were either naked or scantily dressed, and one thing led to another. Many spa-goers indulged in what we might today call ‘holiday romances’, while some attended spas with their mistresses, leaving their wives and families at home.
The ill and the hedonistic were often awkwardly juxtaposed at spas, but rarely interacted. An illustration of this can be found in Jane Austen’s novel Persuasion, partly set in Bath towards the latter years of its fame as England’s foremost spa. The heroine Anne Elliott and her circle indulge in the social whirl of the town, romancing and intriguing, while Anne’s friend Mrs Smith, crippled by rheumatism and arthritis, lives in cheap lodgings with one faithful servant, and only leaves her dwelling to be carried to the baths for her daily treatment.
Hypochondria: A third group of spa attendees were those whom we would today call ‘the worried well’. Some would attend spas for help with relatively minor but persistent ailments, often stress-related. Gastric disturbances (that might today be diagnosed as irritable bowel syndrome) were common. One suspects that such individuals would today be drawn to the wellness industry, and would make up a proportion of the clientele of today’s luxury spas.
The heyday of spas was the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. By the end of the nineteenth century, improved transport links and changing fashions led to other attractions, particularly at the seaside, becoming more popular than inland spas. Advances in medical knowledge led to new drug treatments and reduced faith in the therapeutic value of mineral waters. As stated earlier, this process began earlier in Britain than on the continent, due to easier access to seaside resorts and the popularity of sea bathing. Significantly, in Jane Austen’s Persuasion, Anne Elliott and her friends preferred the rugged seaside charms of Lyme Regis to the increasingly staid and elderly atmosphere of Bath. Although spa towns such as Harrogate and Cheltenham continued to grow during the nineteenth century, by the 1850s, Britain’s spas were fading – which was a problem for the newly discovered and established spa of Whittle Springs.
The Discovery, Development and Decline of Whittle Springs
In 1836, John Heys, a landowner whose estate was centred on Gorse Hall in the south of Whittle-le-Woods, dug a shaft on his land near the Leeds-Liverpool canal, in an unsuccessful search for coal. Ten years later, in 1846, Heys, taking a walk with a friend, a medical doctor named William Brigham, stopped by the old mine workings, which had filled with water. Dr Brigham noticed that the water was coloured and flavoured in a way that suggested a mineral spring. Subsequent analysis confirmed that there were both chalybeate (iron-bearing) and alkaline springs at the site, and the latter, which had a reputation as a cure for rheumatism and other disorders, became the basis of the spa.
The discovery of the mineral spring aroused considerable interest locally, and one Sunday some 3,000 people visited the spot, bringing bottles and jugs to carry away the water. Heys lost no time in exploiting his discovery, and by 1848 had opened a hotel, baths and pleasure grounds on the site. The hotel was designed by a Preston architect, F.W. Tuach in the then popular English gothic style. The spa was named Whittle Springs and the hotel, the Heys Arms.
At first, Whittle Springs was promoted as a health resort as well as a local leisure amenity. There was a gentleman’s swimming bath, 100ft long, and later a smaller ladies’ bath – no mixed bathing during Queen Victoria’s reign. There were hot and cold individual baths, and for invalids, “the additional advantage of advice from a celebrated medical gentleman from Manchester, who has made arrangements for visiting these Springs weekly” – possibly Dr Brigham? Those taking a cure at the spa could stay in the hotel (bed and board 6/-; servants 3/-), and a terrace of three imposing houses was built just up the hill from the spa (it is still known as Spring Terrace), which could be rented “by the week, month or season”. It was not quite the Royal Crescent at Bath, but attracted some custom from spa-users. At the 1851 census, one house was occupied by a Miss Ellen Heath from Manchester, with her servant, Mary Abbott. An 1856 advertisement gushingly proclaimed that “Whittle mineral springs and the surrounding scenery are exactly the same to those of the celebrated Baden-Baden, conferring the same benefits, at a trifling outlay”.
The land around the hotel was landscaped and promoted as pleasure grounds for locals, and also aimed to attract wedding and ‘pic-nic parties’. From the outset there was a boating lake and a bowling green, as well as pleasant woodland walks around the five-acre site. Initially, there was also a cricket pitch, some quarter of a mile away, and other attractions included angling, archery, quoiting, billiards and gymnastics. An observatory tower was built, and the porter’s lodge, known as the ‘Wap House’, sold refreshments and drinks to passers-by. Early advertisements claimed that between 30,000 and 50,000 people visited the pleasure grounds each year. Occasional concerts took place in the Heys Arms, such as a recital in 1853 by Mr Reuben Riley, a singer from Manchester.
The management of Whittle Springs advertised stabling for 40 horses, and lock-up facilities for carriages. The site was some two miles from the nearest railway station at Chorley, and during busy times a carriage shuttled between the station and the pleasure grounds. Cheap train fares for parties of eight or over could be negotiated from Manchester and surrounding towns. In 1856, a grand excursion train ran from Stalybridge, Bury and Bolton, being met at the Springs by the band of the 7th Royal Princess’s Dragoon Guards. Alternatively, visitors could arrive by canal boat. During the 1850s excursions were run from Blackburn. A later reminiscence of one of these trips recalled that the boat was hauled by two horses, under the control of lads who “fancied themselves as postillions”. Musical entertainment was advertised, which turned out to be a man with a concertina, who found himself accompanied by a chorus of passengers on the return journey, doubtless well lubricated by ale from the adjacent Whittle Springs brewery. This opened in 1856, using water from the alkaline spring.
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| A 19th century view of the Howard Arms, with the imposing tower of Whittle Springs Brewery beyond it. |
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| The Whittle Springs complex in the late 19th century. To the right of the Howard Arms was the bowling green, and beyond that, the boating lake. Note how close the brewery was to the pleasure grounds, and to the Leeds-Liverpool canal. Moss Lane Malt Kilns, at the bottom of the map, included the stabling for horses and carriages visiting the pleasure grounds. It is now the Malthouse Farm restaurant and hotel. Spring Terrace can be seen above the pleasure grounds, off Lower Lane (now Dark Lane). |
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| The proximity of the spring to the Leeds-Liverpool canal was fortuitous. Unused spring water could be discharged into the canal, and visitors could arrive at the site by barge. In its heyday, the brewery had its own landing stage, for bringing in raw materials and sending away beer. Today, the site of the brewery wharf is taken up by - inevitably - luxury houses |
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| Spring
Terrace was built in the late 1840s to provide lodgings for those
taking cures at the spa. By the 1860s the three houses were occupied by
workers at the brewery |
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| The Wap House was Whittle Springs' porters lodge, where admission charges were paid. It also served refreshments. None of the buildings on the site were listed, and the Wap house was demolished, but has recently been restored and now houses a small business |
John Heys died in 1849, and his estate was inherited by his brother Henry. It was then acquired in 1855 by a Thomas Howard of Hyde, and the hotel was renamed the Howard Arms. Around this time, advertisements for Whittle Springs started to shift in focus from the spa and health tourism to a greater emphasis on the pleasure grounds and the ballroom attached to the hotel – hedonism outweighing health. The baths and the hotel accommodation were downplayed and at some point the large gentleman’s bath was closed. The hotel may have discontinued its overnight rooms and the houses of Spring Terrace were occupied by workers at the brewery. Clearly, the spa was suffering from the general move away from ‘taking the waters’ that was affecting more prominent resorts. By the 1870s the spa had become an afterthought and the baths were rarely used. Then in 1883, work was carried out to improve the flow of spring water to the brewery, and the supply to the spa dried up, leading to its final closure as a health facility. Apparently, the small building in the grounds that housed the outlet of the spring was later used as a monkey house.
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| The brewery is long gone, but the spring water feed is preserved in this well in Spring Mews |
The pleasure grounds proved to be popular among locals. An early advocate was the labouring-class poet John Critchley Prince, who had been born in Wigan and worked as a reedmaker. Despite a somewhat chaotic life he managed to publish five volumes of high Victorian verse, and his 1856 collection Autumn Leaves included the poem ‘Whittle Springs: a Reminiscence”, that is quoted at the beginning of this article. The full text of the poem, for lovers of Victoriana, can be found here.
The Howard Arms had a succession of licensees during the 19th century. The longest serving was Samuel Settle, who was proprietor for some sixteen years, from 1857 to 1873. His reign was not however without controversy. At a dinner at the Howard Arms in 1867, a local parson, proposing a toast, felt obliged to refute “the assertions by a magistrate that the Springs were not conducted as they ought to be”. Then in 1873, Settle was brought before Chorley magistrates, charged with permitting drunkenness on his premises. He was convicted and fined £3, and shortly afterwards the tenancy was advertised to let. A succession of licensees followed: Isiah Heath, Daniel Stansfield, John Hurst, G.W. Mather, J. Livesey, Edward Drake, and following his death, Mrs Drake.
Whittle Springs became a popular venue for pic-nic parties (as they were known in the 19th century). It was the heyday of social clubs and societies, and groups ranging from the Liverpool Temperance League to the Wigan Co-operative Employees Association held their annual pic-nics at the site, sometimes concludng their visit with dancing in the ballroom. Victorian pic-nics were the epitome of modesty and decorum, and so the hedonistic aspect of spa attendance was muted. No doubt some sexual shenanigans occurred, but by and large, what happened in the shady woodland walks has stayed in those walks. Just one mildly salacious tale can be linked to Whittle Springs, in the form of a court action for breach of promise of marriage, brought in 1872 by Eleanor Pendlebury, a dressmaker of Horwich, against Robert Eatock, a farmer’s son from Rivington. Their relationship began at a pic-nic at Whittle Springs, where “the defendant [Robert] was a good deal impressed with the plaintiff’s [Eleanor’s] manner and conversation”, and “a cordial acquaintance was formed between them”. Following a rather stormy courtship, Eleanor was convinced that Robert had agreed to marry her, and was persuaded to book into a hotel in Liverpool with him as man and wife, where, “impropriety ensued, and she found herself caciente [fallen]”. In due course, a son was born. Robert however denied that he had promised to marry Eleanor, and subsequently married a Miss Tilsley. The action for breach of promise brought by Eleanor and her father was successful, and she was awarded damages of £450.
In 1874, Whittle Springs and the adjacent brewery were acquired by the firm of Gardner, Thompson and Cardwell, which managed it until 1929 (the firm was later known as Whittle Springs Brewery Ltd). The brewery acquired a portfolio of tied houses, including the Sea View on Preston Road, and the Red Lion in Wheelton. The pleasure grounds continued to operate into the 20th century. By the turn of the century, to keep up with the times, adverts included the legend, “Cyclists catered for”. Despite Samuel Settle moving on, drunkenness was not completely unknown. In 1904, a weaver named Robert Catterall died after falling from a swing in the grounds, having drunk a quantity of beer on his way from Blackburn, and more at the Howard Arms.
The 20th century decline of Whittle Springs was long and slow. It held its place among Whittle’s pubs and restaurants for several decades, but its days as a ‘go-to destination’ were over. In 1929, the brewery was bought by Nuttalls of Blackburn, which was subsequently swallowed up by Matthew Brown and Company. In a rationalising move, the brewery was closed and staff and operations moved to Blackburn. The site became a builder’s yard and is now a housing estate. The Howard Arms was still in business after the Second World War; the licensee for eighteen years from 1938 to 1956 was Albert Lucas Turner. Eventually it was bought by Burtonwood Brewery, renamed the Howard and used as a wedding and events venue, until its closure in 2002. Apparently it is fondly remembered by local aficionados of Northern Soul.
Postscript
I must confess that I never went inside Whittle Springs or the Howard Arms while they were operational, and I was only dimly aware of their history. After the Howard closed, an article appeared in the Chorley Guardian outlining its past, and my interest was aroused. One Sunday morning, I went to look round the site, expecting it to be deserted. I hadn’t gone far when I was confronted by a gentleman who told me he had bought the site and indicated that my presence was not welcome. He was unmoved by my apology and expression of interest in the site’s history, which he clearly did not share, and escorted me firmly and permanently from the premises.
Whittle Springs is now a development of luxury houses, called Heys Lodge. Stray historians and other members of the lower orders are excluded from the site by walls and fences, locked gates and ‘Keep Out’ signs. I sometimes wonder if my innocent historical trespass contributed in a small way to the owner’s current concern for exclusiveness. Property may not be theft, but property can mean the theft of history.
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| Heys Lodge today |
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| Historians keep out! |
Sources Used
Bradley I (2020) Health, Hedonism and Hypochondria: The Secret History of Spas. London: Taurus Parke.
Walton J K (2011) The history of British spa resorts: An exceptional case in Europe? TST, 20: 138-157.
