The Forgotten Spas of West Yorkshire

Newspaper reports 1975-95...

300 ft above sea level stands one of Ilkley Moor's landmarks, White Wells, the old 18th century bath-house. A few years ago was rapidly going to rack and ruin, but today it presents a new image entirely. Thanks to the efforts and generosity of Mr Eric Busby, former proprietor of the Goosewell Gallery at nearby Menston, the White Wells premises were saved, restored and repainted, and handed over for safe keeping to Bradford Metro's Museums and Art Galleries Committee. When reopened the old bath-house was furnished as in its heyday, in the middle of the 19th century, complete with ferns and picture gallery. Eventually, it was intended to equip an ante-room to house a permanent exhibition on the develop-ment of the English Spa towns, of which Ilkley was one of the first.

Squire Middleton erected the White Wells Bath House in 1793. Its existence paved the way for the "Hydropathic boom" of last century, for it was after deriving curative benefit at the White Wells that a wealthy gentleman named Hamer Stansfield resolved to form a company to erect a "Hydropathic establishment" in the area. That was in 1843 and the site to be chosen was at Wheatley - later to be known as Ben Rhydding - and in charge of the Hydro was one Dr Rischack, who had been brought from Silesia - formerly Austria.

The enterprise was successful, for in 1850 it was reported that 500,000 gallons of moorland water was being piped annually to the Ben Rhydding Hydro. Its suc-cess led to other Hydros being built in Ilkley, perhaps the most notable being Wells House (designed by Cuthbert Brodrick, who was responsible for Leeds Town Hall). Then came Troutbeck, Craiglands, and other smaller establishments. Ilkley led the way, and soon the great English Spa town building boom was going ahead. In those early years of Victoria's reign, a widely experienced London doctor set out to survey the English Spa resorts, large and small, and record his findings in a tome titled "Spas of England" published in 1841.

The result was a critical comment upon what A.B. Granville, MB, FRCS, saw at the time, and makes interesting reading. Last year the writer of this article had a look at what remained of the mineral springs in this immediate area, not all of them brought to the attention of the worthy London physician, although probably in existence at the time. Dr. Granville, in his 1841 visit to White Wells, noted that the chief constituent of the waters was "Carbonate of Lime, together with So-dium," a mixture he described as "efficacious to the circulation." The medico went on to observe that the principal function of the Spa was for bathing, in particular the application of a "douche" to a diseased limb.

At the time of his visit, a young girl of about 11 years of age was being subjected to the cold "douche" under the supervision of "an old, primitive dame who, be-sides acting as Bath Woman, escorts invalids to the White wells on a climbing quadruped - an ass." Dr Hunter, at the time a noted physician in Ilkley, com-menting on the action of the waters, wrote: "One of the coldest natural Baths to be met with" and goes on to add "Its effect is highly invigorating, promoting both the secretions and excretions of the body, and giving a keen edge to the appe-tite." No wonder that in view of such strong and influential medical approval, Ha-mer Stansfield went ahead with his scheme to promote a Hydro at Ben Rhydding!

THE WATER CURE

The old 18th century bath-house White Wells, 300 ft above sea level, one of the landmarks of Ilkley Moor, a few years ago was rapidly going to rack and ruin, but today it presents a new image entirely. Thanks to the efforts and generosity of Mr Eric Busby, former proprietor of the Goosewell Gallery at nearby Menston, the White Wells premises were saved, restored and repainted, and handed over for safe keeping to Bradford Metro's Museums and Art Galleries Committee. When reopened the old bath-house was furnished as it was in its heyday, in the middle of the 19th century, complete with ferns and picture gallery. Eventually, an ante-room was equiped to house a permanent exhibition on the development of the English Spa towns, of which Ilkley was one of the first.

Ilkley's water was supposedly first discovered by the Romans though there is no proof. It was not until Squire Middleton erected the White Wells Bath House in 1793 that progress was made. Its existence paved the way for the "Hydropathic boom" of last century, for it was after deriving curative benefit at the White Wells that a wealthy gentleman named Hamer Stansfield MP, Lord Mayor of Leeds, re-solved to form a company to erect a "Hydropathic establishment" in the area. That was in 1843/4 and the site to be chosen was at Wheatley - later to be known as Ben Rhydding and in charge of the Hydro was one Dr Rischack, who had been brought from Silesia - formerly Austria.

The enterprise was successful, for in 1850 it was reported that 500,000 gallons of moorland water was being piped annually to the Ben Rhydding Hydro. Its suc-cess led to other Hydros being built in Ilkley, perhaps the most notable being Wells House (designed by Cuthbert Brodrick, who was responsible for Leeds Town Hall). Then came Troutbeck, Craiglands, and other smaller establishments. Ilkley led the way, and soon the great English Spa town building boom was going ahead. In those early years of Victoria's reign, a widely experienced London doctor set out to survey the English Spa resorts, large and small, and record his findings in a tome titled "Spas of England" published in 1841. The result was a critical comment upon what A.B. Granville, MB, FRCS, saw at the time, and makes interesting reading. Last year the writer of this article had a look at what remained of the mineral springs in this immediate area, not all of them brought to the attention of the worthy London physician, although probably in existence at the time.

Dr. Granville, in his 1841 visit to White Wells, noted that the chief constituent of the waters was "Carbonate of Lime, together with Sodium," a mixture he de-scribed as "efficacious to the circulation." The medico went on to observe that the principal function of the Spa was for bathing, in particular the application of a "douche" to a diseased limb. At the time of his visit, a young girl of about 11 years of age was being subjected to the cold "douche" under the supervision of "an old, primitive dame who, besides acting as Bath Woman, escorts invalids to the White wells on a climbing quadruped - an ass." Dr Hunter, at the time a noted physician in Ilkley, commenting on the action of the waters, wrote: "One of the coldest natural Baths to be met with" and goes on to add "Its effect is highly in-vigorating, promoting both the secretions and excretions of the body, and giving a keen edge to the appetite." No wonder that in view of such strong and influential medical approval, Hamer Stansfield went ahead with his scheme to promote a Hydro at Ben Rhydding!

BIT OF BATH HOUSE HISTORY UNEARTHED

A piece of Ilkley's history has turned up unexpectedly near the 18th century at White Wells bath-house on the slopes of Ilkley Moor. While making a rock garden near the toilets (once a public bath house) Frazer Irwin unearthed a lead pipe leading to a small stone trough. It is probably the remains of a now dry Chaly-beate (iron water) spring, where visitors would drink the medicinal waters in Victo-rian times and perhaps earlier. "There used to be a similar stone trough at the top of Heber's Ghyll. It used to have a metal cup attached" said Mr. Eric Busby of Grove Road Ilkley, the former art gallery owner who restored White Wells. "This trough looks very similar - it is a very interesting discovery indeed. When the Rombalds Water Board took over the moor they captured many of the old springs. The flow from the nearby waterfall of Willy Hall's Spout is much less than it used to be - this probably accounts for the Chalybeate spring drying up."

(The stone trough at Heber's Ghyll according to my research, is buried under some three feet of soil and rubble)

PAINTING JOB ON ILKLEY LANDMARK

Youngsters from Moorland House Community Home School have been repainting an Ilkley landmark. But they are doing it with help from one of their teachers and with the whole-hearted approval of the local community. The White Wells on the edge of Ilkley Moor was restired by local artist and historian Eric Busby in 1974. It has been famous for its drinking water since the fourteenth century and it is still a popular tourist attraction.

Useful.

Mr. Busby had the idea that the Moorland House boys could do a useful job maintaining the white buildings. So yesterday half-a-dozen of the older boys from the school were hard at work with spray guns and brushes. After Squire Middleton built the Plunge Bath in 1760, local people visited the White Wells tor the benefit of bathing in the mineral water. Free baths were given for the underprivileged. Now deputy headmaster Colin Quinn believes that this latest exercise could bring a lot of benefit to the disadvantaged boys of Moorland House.

Object.

"A lot of them have been involved in vandalism. It is a good experience for them to see at first hand the work of local vandals," he said. He added that many of the boys were outraged when they saw their repair work had been undone. "These youngsters are failures in society and failures in school. For these lads actually to be able to do something and see it looks nice does them a lot of good." (Two of the lads started coming back during the 80's, an older one with his family and wife).

Ilkley was known in 1709 for its famous "cold well." But White Wells in its present form wasn't built until approximately 1759 and it is remarkable that its twin baths, complete with clear, running water, have survived the years while later and more magnificent establishments have disappeared. The most splendid, without a doubt, was the Hydropathic Establishment built In 1846, like a castle on the edge of the moors at Ben Rhydding. Like the modern "health farm," the regime at Ben Rhydding was strict and by the sound of it, one needed a good constitution to un-dergo the rigorous water treatments. Not that anyone minded. The Hydro at-tracted the gentry of Victorian society, clergymen, county gentlemen, sheriffs, law-yers and even Indian nabobs. The Rev. R. Woodrow Thomson in a little book on the Hydro published in 1863 sings its praises long and loud. The day at Ben Rhydding began with a rude awakening at 6 or 7 a.m. when the bath-man led the bleary-eyed patient to the Dripping Sheet bath which involved a large sheet soaked with cold water being wrapped round the poor fellow, who was then given a brisk rub-down and sent out for a rapid walk or a game of rackets before break-fast.

A varied and somewhat horrifying array of baths were available to the patients. The piece de resistance was the compressed air bath, ten feet in diameter and 12 feet high "constructed of iron plates, riveted together like those of the boiler of a steam engine." Air was piped in from the moors 250 yards away and a seven-horse power steam-engine built up the pressure so that patients could swelter in a dry, compressed atmosphere. The Wet Pack was thought to bring great benefits. Perhaps it did, yet one can only contemplate it with a shudder. The patient (whom one imagines kicking and screaming), is laid on a mattress and a wet, cold sheet is wrapped round him followed by blankets and a feather bed. "The first feeling ex-perienced," says the every cheerful Mr. Thomson "is that of cold". This however speedily gives place to a pleasant glow. A gentle moisture next manifests itself, and after lying usually for three quarters of an hour in the 'envelope,' the patient is released and plunged into a cold shallow bath, which completes the process. The most ardent water cure enthusiast, however, could take his chances under the Douche Bath in which water cascaded 10 to 20 feet on to the unfortunate patient.

After these exhausting baths, it is no wonder that the guests attacked the "abun-dant and substantial fare" at dinner, consisting of joints and saddles of mutton, roasts of beef, varied by fowls, cutlets beefsteaks etc. Abundance of vegetables during dinner and puddings of every kind afterwards, complete the entertainment." The evening was occupied in draughts, backgammon and country danceing, fol-lowed by supper (a glass of cool, clear water). Lights out for the ladies was at 10 p.m. and, for the gentlemen an hour later. With all those brisk moorland walks, exertions on the rackets court, vigorous baths and country dancing as well, the Hydro is certainly a case of kill or cure!

SHORT ON JAM AT 'FAWLTY TOWERS'

In its Victorian heyday, Indian nabobs, well-to-do writers and other members of the hypochondriac gentry travelled to the baronial splendour of the Ben Rhydding Hy-dropathic Establishment at Ilkley to shiver in wet blankets, sweat in the com-pressed air bath and partake of the many other cold water cures. But in its later years, both before and after it was turned into a golfing hotel, it seems to have re-sembled Fawlty Towers. One Ilkley man Iived in and worked there 50 years ago for a wage of £1. 19s. a week. That included three meals a day, but tea, he says "consisted of bread and jam, but the jam only lasted three days". The porridge was made from hot water drawn from the tap. The supply, he alleges, was drawn from the pond on the golf links which was inhabited by tadpoles, frogs and other wildlife.

Another member of staff at the Hydro recalls the Italian chef who was hot tem-pered. If the old staff maid was persuaded to ask him for "seconds" he was liable to chase her out of the kitchen with a meat cleaver, shouting "I'll kill you". Mem-bers of the staff used to buy 2lb. tins of dripping from him at 4d. a tin. It was his little "perk". Among the residents was a retired Colonel who kept fantail pigeons by the side of the croquet lawn. The chair on which he habitually sat bore what appeared to be a Latin inscription. It read "ORE STABIT FORTIS AGO OD PLACET ORE STAT". When eventually asked what it meant, the colonel revealed the truth. By altering the spacing between the words, it read "O REST A BIT FOR TIS A GOOD PLACE TO REST AT".

These memories of the Hydro are among the many fascinating glimpses of the past contributed by members to the monthly newsletters of the James Clarke and Sarah Foley Day Centre at Ilkley. The Hydro, with its 100 acres of grounds, came to a sad end. It was demolished for executive housing. But it was survived by an even older supplier of cold water baths in the 18th century bath-house of White Wells. Willie Butterfield used to make teas there long before the cafe (now de-molished) was built a few yards away. He served teas in the upstairs rooms on trestle tables and boiled the water in a large iron kettle over a coal fire. Women made ham sandwiches for those who didn't bring their own food while the shop at the back sold minerals and picture postcards.

The huge crowds who came over the moors on Bank Holidays and weekends also patronised the pierrots who performed on the site of the present Christian Science Church, and Wray's Pleasure Gardens and the miniature zoo down by the River. In the evening, the queues for the trains and the Ledgard buses were so long that they curled round the back of the Public Library and the Town Hall. The local young folk found their pleasures on "The Bunny Run" - the promenade where boys met girls as they walked the circuit from Brook Street along The Grove, down Cun-liffe Road and along Church Street. The smartest young men bought grey spats, bowler hats, overcoats with velvet collars and silver-topped canes, all to impress the ladies.

It was Willie Butterfield, by the way who claimed to have seen fairies at White Wells, as mentioned briefly on this page recently. One correspondent recounts it as follows. Mr. Butterfield set off one morning to open the door of the baths. As he approached the door with his big iron key, he inserted the key in the lock and turned it. But the key went round and round and the door remained fast. Mr. Butterfield reckoned he would have to force the door open and, putting his shoul-der to it, pushed with all his might. After trying a while, the door sprang open, and an astonished Mr Butterfield couldn't believe his own two eyes. Little figures dressed in green and about 18 inches high were bathing and sporting fully dressed in the waters chirping in an unintelligible language. He watched for a while then shouted "Hallo there" and in a helter-skelter the little creatures, chirrup-ing like birds, fled in all directions, then out through the door. Mr Butterfield has-tened to trace their whereabouts but they had gone.

Whether provided by White Wells or the Hydro, the Ilkley waters were always much sought after, for drinking as well as bathing. Ilkley Railway Station used to get its water from Mill Ghyll - the stream which runs (now underground) through the centre of the town. A porter was sent up regularly to clean out the metal trough in the top part of the Ghyll. Another station porter made the short journey every day to the old Canker Well along The Grove to fill a bottle with its orange-coloured water. This was sent by rail daily to a Bradford man who swore by its curative powers. Other people, less impressed, complain that the Canker Well water tastes like rusty nails. One woman, who bottled some and left it in the car on a hot day, was astonished when there was an almighty bang. The bottle of Canker Well water had exploded! The well itself is still there, in a pleasant garden, but sadly, the supply of water has been cut off and no-one seems to be able to reconnect it again.

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