An anatomy of a Yorkshire town: Turkish Baths, posh tea and happy people
I have found fresh insights into my Yorkshire family roots on each visit to the old spa town of Harrogate – and they have been very frequent during the restoration project of the Royal Hall.
It is the only surviving “Kursaal” (a German word meaning “Cure Hall”) in England, a beautiful creation by Frank Matcham, the great Victorian theatre designer who was responsible for London’s Coliseum and the Palladium theatres. It was rescued from imminent demolition by the sheer determination of a local woman, Lilian Mina; and was opened 10 years ago by the Prince of Wales, its patron and an enthusiastic supporter of the project.
My great-grandfather, Samson Fox, knew of Kursaals from his visits to German spa towns such as Baden-Baden, and when he was mayor of Harrogate paid to send his councillors, who were against building one in their town, to see for themselves examples in the spa centres of Europe. They came back so full of what they’d seen that the decision was made to build it, starting in 1901. A unique feature is a wide area that circles the building on one level where, during Harrogate’s heyday as a spa, Edwardian women could stroll about to show themselves off during the interval, before sitting down to supper. It was always flexible enough to feature concerts and smart dances, as well as burlesque and music hall stars such as Dan Leno.
Samson Fox was born in 1838, in Bowling, near Bradford, to Sarah and Jonas Fox, a poor man working as a weaver in a textile mill. Samson left school at the age of eight to work in a factory (most likely where his father worked). However, from an early age, his abiding interest was all things mechanical. Although Jonas wanted him to remain a weaver, Samson reportedly said: “I’ll tramp till I find a job in iron and steel. I’ll have nowt else.”
He began work as an apprentice aged 15 in a foundry in Armley, a district of Leeds, and started his own business – Leeds Forge Company – 20 years later, where he developed the corrugated boiler flue. It was to be the first of his 150 patents and the foundation of a great fortune. As soon as he was able to afford it, he escaped to a healthier place, building for himself the palatial Grove House on the edge of the moors just outside Harrogate.
My grandfather, Willie Fox, was a lover of music and met an American soprano at a party. Madame Nordica was then performing in Wagner’s The Ring in London. During their conversation, she mentioned that, when appearing as Brunhilde, she’d always wondered about the racket made by the angry dwarf Alberich, and the Nibelungs, bashing out the gold on anvils beneath her feet. Willie said that was exactly what his father did, and would she like to experience what it was really like? She went up to meet Samson, who made a great fuss of her and showed her the Leeds forge at work.
During their time together, she told Samson of her work with modernising London’s Royal College of Music, and its need of a bigger establishment. Samson gave her the £30,000 required; when, inevitably, it needed half as much again to complete the building, and he was told they had another donor, he paid that as well, stating, “Nay, we’ll not have two hands at this.”
On my recent visit to Yorkshire for a concert at the Royal Hall, I stopped for a night at an 800-year-old-coaching inn, the Yorke Arms, on the edge of the Dales, run by a friend of mine called Frances Atkins. She’s had a Michelin star for the past 16 years, and her delicious food demonstrates that hospitality really is an art. I sat down to dinner next to a couple who, like me, had travelled from Dorset. He was born in Bradford and went through years of grammar school seated next to David Hockney, although his own drawings didn’t quite make it on to the classroom wall.
There is a running joke among my family about how slowly I drive – but there is the beautiful Yorkshire country to see on the short journey to Harrogate in the morning. We spin through Pateley Bridge, with the oldest sweet shop in England, before getting to the Old Swan Hotel in Harrogate, a rambling establishment where the great crime writer Agatha Christie lay hidden for the 11 days of her mysterious disappearance in 1926.
A few yards from the hotel is the Mercer, the town’s art gallery worth a visit for an excellent permanent collection, including works by a son of a Harrogate hotelier, William Powell Frith, an artist adored by the Victorian public for his narrative masterpiece: Derby Day. The Mercer is currently celebrating Frith’s bicentenary with a major show of his work. In the past, I’ve gone to the gallery to see the Vlaho Bukovac portrait of my great-grandfather, looking every inch the Victorian titan of industry; but, for now, it’s on exhibition in the painter’s native Croatia.
Harrogate is fortunate, lying as it does at the foot of the Yorkshire Dales, to have many green spaces; one of my favourite spots for a walk is the Stray in the centre of town, which in Norman times was the scene of royal hunting through the Forest of Knaresborough. It was created in the 18th century to link the numerous springs that had been discovered over centuries, creating wealth for the town from the visitors keen on the medicinal waters. Its 200 acres will never be subjected to enclosure or property development because the subsoil belongs to the Queen; thankfully, it will remain forever an open space of ancient trees and flowering cherry trees in spring.
For years I’ve been enthusiastic, if amateurish, in my garden in Dorset, so I like to go to visit the RHS Harlow Carr botanical gardens in the centre of the town – there’s more than 50 acres to walk around and learn something new and obscure, such as cultivating plants in the colder northern weather. Exercise over, it’s only a stroll to get to a Harrogate institution, Bettys Café Tea Rooms for its speciality: afternoon tea. Bettys is currently celebrating its centenary year (see panel, below).
If there’s a need to warm up at the end of the day, try the Turkish Baths, which would surely delight the most demanding Ottoman potentate. They’re part of the Royal Baths and are amazing for being among the few to survive, fully restored and functional, with Moorish arches and patterned tiles in bright colours.
The Royal Pump Room was built in 1842 as a place for people to take the waters that put the town of Harrogate on the map in the 19th century. Seven years ago, it was banned by the EU as unfit for human consumption; but a local historian, my friend Malcolm Neesam, campaigns against its decision. It is now a museum, open to visitors. Ignoring all the notices, my son Freddie and grandson Harry insisted on drinking the sulphur water, with no ill effects, apart from them belching like Falstaff most of the train journey back to London.
Essentials
Staying there
Edward Fox stayed at the Yorke Arms in Harrogate (01423 755243; theyorkearms.co.uk), which has rooms from £375 per night and offers a five-course tasting menu. For a full review, see telegraph.co.uk/tt-yorke-arms.
The Old Swan, Harrogate (01423 500055; telegraph.co.uk/tt-old-swan) offers double rooms from £99 per night.
What to see
Mercer Art Gallery (harrogate.gov.uk). Free admission.
The Stray, 200 acres of grassland, around the town centre (visitharrogate.co.uk).
RHS Harlow Carr botanical gardens (rhs.org.uk); tickets from £11.80 for adults and £5.90 for children from five to 16 years.
Turkish Baths Harrogate (turkishbathsharrogate.co.uk) mixed sessions, ladies only and men only, start from £19.
Royal Pump Room Museum (harrogate.gov.uk): adult tickets, £3.50 and children up to and including 16 years, £2.
The Royal Hall (01423 502116; Harrogatetheatre.co.uk/our-venues/royal-hall).
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