Wedding Venue

 

In 2018 someone had the genius idea of turning this awesome stately home into a wedding venue, and from what I can tell it did really well for the brief time it was open for business. The opening event was called "The Art of the Spectacular," and it was a big theatrical bonanza thrown together by a group called "Yet Another Carnival." The event was immersive, with numerous actors playing roles in an entirely fictitious 1920s wedding, with one person even playing the houses original occupant returning from a hunting trip. There was also live music and fireworks. It looks like it was an awesome night.

For the next two years, the wedding venue was pretty popular, being able to utilise a variety of different spaces and styles, both indoors and outdoors, but also advertising themselves as a venue that could be used for other commercial events. Unfortunately it was all brought to an abrupt end in 2020 when an electrical fault caused a massive fire. The damage seems to be reasonably contained, gutting a chunk of the building while leaving other parts perfectly fine, but nevertheless it was no longer fit for purpose. Nobody wants to get married next to a huge smouldering hole, unless you want your wedding to be Walsall-themed or something. 

And then in the years since (except for lockdown when we were all really well-behaved) it has been plundered, vandalised, ransacked, and it has become an Urbex Flavour of the Month.

 

Before we slip inside, I had a mooch around the grounds to snap up all of the garden features. And thanks to all the wedding photographers out there, I've been able to match some parts of the house to photos from before the fire. This little rotunda pops up in numerous images. 

 

 (Photo credit Michele Jones photography)

 

 

Likewise this little bench swing has also been featured in a few wedding photographs.

 

(Photo credit: Helen Jane Smiddy)

It all makes it very sad to see the place as it is now, slowly being taken back by nature when it was once vibrant and full of positivity.

 

 

There seems to be an old pool here. 

 

 

And this cute little shack has no doubt played host to many a wedding photoshoot.

 

 

There's a play area here for any children too. 

 

 

And a tennis court that could do with a sweep but is otherwise fit for purpose. 

 

 

So the gardens don't have anything that a little TLC can't fix, but let's slip inside and check out the damage.

 

 

The story of the building begins with a chap called Gilbert Greenall. He was the sixth son of Edward Greenall, who was the son of Thomas Greenall. Thomas had gotten filthy rich after a brief period of dabbling in nail making, coal mining and yarn spinning before deciding that what he really wanted to do was run a brewery. Aiding Thomas in his venture were his sons, Peter, Edward and William, who eliminated the competition in the early 1800s by buying all of the local pubs. But Thomas died in 1805, and his sons Peter and William joined him in 1817, leaving everything in Edwards hands. 

In 1818 Edward put his eldest son, another Thomas, in charge of everything while another son, another Peter, took off for a career in politics. Poor Gilbert, being the sixth son, wasn't even named after anyone! Nevertheless, Edward had an entire mansion built for him in 1830.

 

Gilbert. (Image not mine, obviously)

 

Gilbert did eventually take over the family business in the 1840s after his brothers died, and he also sank his teeth into the railway and canal industries, as well as freemasonry in the 1850s. In fact he was a pretty damn prominent Freemason. In 1866 he became the Senior Grand Warden of the United Grand Lodge of England and then in 1868 he even had a lodge named after him. So whatever it is Freemasons do, he was damn good at it. 

Gilbert had a son in 1867, also called Gilbert, and for his 21st birthday in 1899 he followed the family tradition, and had this mansion built for him.

What, don't your parents give you mansions for your birthday?

 

 

Young Gilberts interests differed from his fathers, in that he wasn't as passionate about politics. Instead he was a bit of country bumpkin, with interests in horse breeding, pig breeding, and hunting. He was content to use this place as a hunting lodge at first, albeit an extravagantly sized one, and in 1896 he aspired to be Master of the Cheshire Foxhounds, only to be turned down for being "Not quite a Gentleman."

 

To be honest, he does give off a bit of a Joffrey Lannister vibe. 

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

 

After his rejection, Joffrey Gilbert went on to become Master of the Belvoir hunt, sold this mansion, and had another house built in Leicestershire.  

As far as his legacy goes, under his leadership the brewery was one of the first businesses to swap out horse-drawn transportation in favour of motor vehicles in 1908, and he also sought out membership in his fathers Freemason lodge, going on to become the Senior Grand Warden of West Lancashire in 1910. He ended up giving up his position at the Belvoir hunt due to his "other hobbies" and coincidentally that year he founded the St Austin Freemason lodge. He became Lord Daresbury in 1927, and died in 1938, leaving the brewery to his son, Edward. 

 

 

Here we have the much neglected, but still recoverable bar area. I did find some footage advertising the venue that showed the bar back when it was open. 

 

(Image not mine, obviously)

 

Nothing much has changed. It was just tidier back then.

 

 

The framed pictures weren't in the original footage, which makes me wonder if they were placed here by other urbexers for their photographs.

 

 

I don't want to know what's in these glasses. As much as I'd like to think that the last people here legitimately just abandoned their drinks and that this is a time capsule of the last party, I very much doubt that is the case.

Onto the ground floor toilets!

 

 Interesting place for ground floor urinals, facing a big window.

 

This room is my favourite, clearly exposed to the elements and now rocking a moss carpet and greenery seeping through the cracks in the ceiling. It looks very post-apocalyptic. I would totally have a post-apocalypse themed wedding here.

 

The room with the round fireplace was quite nice, and thanks to the internet, I can see what it once looked like. 

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

 

 

So by 1901, Freemason Gilbert was long gone, and this place was the home of a man called Frederick Howard Wingfield Fetherstonhaugh, his wife Beatrice, and their daughters Ellerie and Sybil. They were good friends of the Royal Family, with the King even writing to Beatrice for advice on horse breeding. Here's a photo of Beatrice with Princess Mary from 1925.

(Photo not mine, obviously)

Following Fredericks death in 1931 or 1932 (sources vary), Beatrice purchased a stately home elsewhere where she lived until her death in 1951.

For the record, Frederick didn't die here. The family  had left the property in 1920, and as of 1925 they had moved the Royal Lodge in Windsor when Frederick became equerry to King George V. 

 

From 1920 this house was lived in by a woman named Mary Emma Dempster and her ten servants. 

 

Mary Dempster (Photo not mine, obviously)

 

Mary was initially married to a guy called John Dempster who lived at Methven Castle in Scotland, but the family was rich as fuck, and also owned Keele Hall in Staffordshire where they had about 25 servants. They were so rich that even the senior servants were waited on by lower servants. It's like some sort of career ladder within the confines of servitude.

John Dempster owned a yacht which took part in the Heligoland Yacht Race in 1903, and won him the Kaiser Cup, an award with the German Emperor Wilhelm depicted on one side and King Edward on the other. The Dempsters displayed the award with the King facing outward and the Kaiser facing the wall, and came down incredibly harshly on any servant who forgot that during the cleaning. 

I guess they were patriotic, and in all fairness, Kaiser Wilhelm was a bit of a cunt. But he was also Queen Victoria's grandson on his mothers side. At the time of his birth he was actually the sixth in line of succession to the British throne! And just in case anyone needs proof that he's related to the British monarchs, one of his arms is six inches shorter than the other! That's where cousin-fucking gets you!

 

The impairment was a cause of great insecurity for him, and likely contributed to his emotional development. In almost every photograph, he's trying to conceal it.  But that's another story! I just love that I can look into the history of a wedding venue and end up down a rabbit hole reading about the deformed limbs of German emperors. That's the beauty of doing an urbex blog. I never know where I'll end up.

Poor Mary Dempster came to live here after her husband died, and lived here right up until her own death in 1932.

 

 

This room is full of furniture. It seems that after the fire, everything was moved from the damaged areas into the more secure areas to keep them safe. I did unfortunately witness a couple of thieves taking their pick of some items from the house. I guess it's inevitable that such a place will attract those kind of people.

 

 

Thanks to the reasonably recognisable wallpaper, I was able to link my pictures with images from the wedding venues glory days. 

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

 

Now the rooms all have a bit of an odour to them. The elements have gotten in and the furniture is a little bit soggy.  

There's a postcard here depicting a happy couple, addressed to the venue. It reads "Dear Peter, Lyn and the team. Thank you so much for all your help making our day fantastic. Lots of love, Mary and David."

That's quite lovely.

 

Following the death of Mary Dempster, a chap called Oscar Winterbottom moved in. He was the son of the millionaire book cloth manufacturer, George Winterbottom, and was apparently on the board of directors of the book cloth empire. It seems that he had some modifications done to the mansion, demolishing a portion in 1932. But apart from that, not much else can be found. He enjoyed hunting, so much so that even when arthritis in his leg got so severe he couldn't straddle his horse anymore, he just rode side-saddle. Their Butler was a conscientious objector during war time, and Oscars wife hosted the local Bee Keepers Association meetings here. 

Oscars three daughters, Noel, Sheila and Myra, were all born in the 1920s, so they likely lived here too, until they grew up and moved away. Oscar himself would pass away in 1955, leaving the home vacant once again.

 

After that, a slither of text in a 1968 copy of the Daily Mail referred to a Frank Dunkerley as an occupant here. I haven't found anything on this guy. There is an architect by that name, but he died in 1951, so couldn't possibly be the man in question. But then, is the Daily Mail really a reliable source?

Lastly, as far as occupants go, in 1989 Country Life Magazine published a picture of Fiona Clarke, the only daughter of "David Douglas," the occupant of this house. So it's fair to assume she lived here for a bit too.

Fiona Clarke. (Image not mine, obviously)

Fiona Clarke is an actress, but her roles tend to be more minor or recurring in various TV shows, including Coronation Street in 2011. Given that most of her roles have been in the 21st Century, she looks very different to the 1989 photo above, but then I am crap at facial recognition. I remember humans based on how irritating they are, so most of them are identical.

It seems that the most recent owners of this house came to have it as of 1997.

 

 

The kitchen is pretty spacious, as expected for a place that would have had multiple people staffing it. This area is considerably more decayed than the other parts of the building.

 

 

There's still some pretty nice wall tiles. 

 

 

This area near the kitchen seems to be where the fire did the most damage. It seems the fire mainly spread vertically, taking out the ceilings and letting the elements in. 

 

 

So we're going to do what we should never do in a fire damaged building with questionable structural integrity, and head upstairs!

 

 

 

These stairs bring us out right above the fire-damaged rotting room below, and as you can see, the floor has fallen away. The key to getting any further is to run up the stairs and jump.

 

Seriously though, don't actually do that. The impact of you landing might well bring you through the floor on the other side. Luckily for me, I'm freakishly tall. I just stepped over the hole.

 

 

 

The bathroom is pretty, and there are some photos online that show it as it was. 

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

 

As you can see, someone has yoinked the bath taps, and the mirror.

 

 

The shower is lurking ominously in the corner of the room. 

 

 

The sink is pretty nice. I'm surprised nobody has yoinked the taps here too. 

Onto the Bridal Suite...

 

 

This room is where the bride and groom would have stayed, and celebrated their magical day. As such it was frequently photographed in the buildings glory days, and finding comparison images is pretty easy.

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

 It's kinda sad to see the room as it is now. The wedding photographer, Helen Jane Smiddy, also had a photo of this room which shows people preparing for a wedding, and she's very kindly let me use it here.

(Photo credit: Helen Jane Smiddy)

I think it adds another layer of sadness to the place. It's one thing to see Then/Now images, but it's another thing to see it actually being used, to see the people who actually had a connection to the building. Everywhere mattered to someone once.

 

There's an ensuite bathroom...

 

It's been the focal point of a lot of vandalism, but it's still possible to see the former grandeur shining through. 

 

 

Despite closing mere months before the pandemic, it was spared the horrors of angry toilet roll hoarders. 

 

 

This is where the bride would have had her hair and make up done, ready for the big day.

 

 

Even the guest rooms are ridiculously spacious, and being pretty far from the fire, they're still mostly intact. The beds are as they were left, stripped following the last event, ready to be made for the next one.

 

 

I did have a quick lie down. They're comfy as fuck. I honestly could have stayed there all day.

 

Unfortunately the linen cupboard has seen better days...

 

 

Yeah... it's fully stocked, but soggy. Nobody will be making any beds any time soon. 

 

 

Check it out! It's a tamagotchi! 

 

For anyone who doesn't know, these were all the rage in the 1990s. They're basically a virtual pet, albeit in incredibly basic pixel form. They were fairly prominent in our house for a brief period, although ours were actually "Gigapets," but the concept was pretty much the same. Basically, the user had to cater to their pets needs and raise it, feeding it, playing games with it, and all the stuff you'd do with a regular pet, causing it to eventually grow into different forms through its stages of development. Unlocking the next form was probably the main motivation behind doing anything with it.

The downside is, if its needs are not met, the pet would die. I seem to remember it being depicted with little pixel angel wings and everything.

Finally on the top floor of the wedding venue, we have some rather burnt out bathrooms. The decay up here is actually really pretty.

 

 

Still in better condition than the toilets in some pubs and clubs. 

 

But now it's time to do something people REALLY shouldn't do in a house suffering from fire damage, and climb on the roof!

 

 

But as you can see, we didn't go onto the roof in the fire damaged portion. No, we opened a window in the guest bedrooms. 

 

 

The fire damaged portion is over there, behind the pointy thing. We're fine here. 

 

 

It's not much of a view though. It overlooks the grounds, which we've already covered. Really we're just on the roof for the sake of being up here.

 

So now it's time to explore the cellar!

 

 

Down in the cellar we're introduced, via graffiti, to Adrian's Cum Dungeon. Ooooh I bet he's a real badass.

 

 

What I really love about this graffiti is Adrian clearly originally wrote "Dugeon" before going back over and squeezing the N in there. Alas, it was not the only mistake Adrian was to make.  

 

 

For starters he's got the swastikas backwards too. And instead of drawing a pentagram, he's drawn the Jewish star of David. Poor Adrian. Everything that could go wrong has gone wrong.

 

 

I'm kinda imagining a scenario where Adrian's friends point out his mispelling of Dungeon, which he then corrects. They then point out his backwards swastikas, and he just loses his shit and screams at them. The friends then say "Shall we tell him about the Pentagram?" "No, no, we've hurt him enough."

And then the Satanic ritual begins, and instead of summoning the dark lord, out from the smoke steps Anne Frank. 

Poor Adrian, the comedy relief of the wedding venue. 

 

 

The bottle racks are still down here, but the booze is long gone. 

 

 

Oh no, wait, here it is. 

 

 Lastly, there's a building just outside the main mansion but it's pretty bleak and barren.

 

And that's all I've got. From what I've heard, someone has thrown a load of money at the house, and there are plans underway to undo the damage and continue serving as a wedding venue. That's some pretty good news. It's nice to see it doesn't always end in demolition and housing development. 

I am usually reluctant to go after the Urbex Flavours of the Month, but I can totally see why this place became popular. It's amazing to think that loads of couples have had their fondest memories here, and before that it's been a home to numerous families. There's a lot of history here. It's just a shame that so much stuff has been stolen.

My next blog will be a nursing home, and then after that I'll be looking at a big abandoned cinema. Both locations are pretty awesome. In the meantime, for regular updates, you can follow me on social media. As much as I hate to admit it, Facebook is probably one of the best choices. I am active on Instagram but it's just getting progressively more terrible. I am on Threads now, which is like Zuckerbergs Twitter, which is basically superior Instagram, and I've managed to get back onto my Vero. That's like all the good parts that Instagram got rid of, but with a few more bugs and a tinier userbase, but it's getting there. I am on Twitter too, but that's a car crashing in slow motion, hard to watch but impossible not to. And I'm on Reddit! 

Thanks for reading!