_EARLIEST ASSOCIATIONS_
Lea Hall first English Home--Neighbourhood of Babington Plot--
Dethick Church.
... Those first affections,
Those shadowy recollections,
Which be they what they may,
Are yet the fountain light of all our day,
Are yet a master light of all our seeing.
WORDSWORTH.
When Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale returned from abroad with their two
little daughters, they lived for a time at the old family seat of Lea
Hall, which therefore has the distinction of being the first English
home of Florence Nightingale, an honour generally attributed to her
parents’ subsequent residence of Lea Hurst.
Lea Hall is beautifully situated high up amongst the hills above the
valley of the Derwent. I visited it in early summer when the meadows
around were golden with buttercups and scented with clover, and the
long grass stood ready for the scythe. Wild roses decked the hedgerows,
and the elder-bushes, which grow to a great size in this part of
Derbyshire, made a fine show with their white blossoms. Seen then,
the old grey Hall seemed a pleasant country residence; but when the
north wind blows and snow covers the hillsides, it must be a bleak and
lonely abode. It is plainly and solidly built of grey limestone from
the Derbyshire quarries, and is of good proportions. From its elevated
position it has an imposing look, and forms a landmark in the open
country. Leading from it, the funny old village street of Lea, with its
low stone houses, some of them very ancient, curls round the hillside
downwards to the valley. The butcher proudly displays a ledger with
entries for the Nightingale family since 1835.
The Hall stands on the ancient Manor of Lea, which includes the
villages of Lea, Dethick, and Holloway, and which passed through
several families before it became the property of the Nightingales. The
De Alveleys owned the manor in the reign of John and erected a chapel
there. One portion of the manor passed through the families of Ferrar,
Dethwick, and Babington, and another portion through the families of De
la Lea, Frecheville, Rollestone, Pershall, and Spateman to that of the
Nightingales.
The house stands a little back from the Lea road in its own grounds,
and is approached by a gate from the front garden. Stone steps lead
up to the front door, which opens into an old-fashioned flag-paved
hall. Facing the door is an oak staircase of exceptional beauty. It
gives distinction to the house and proclaims its ancient dignity. The
balustrade has finely turned spiral rails, the steps are of solid oak,
and the sides of the staircase panelled in oak. One may imagine the
little Florence making her first efforts at climbing up this handsome
old staircase.
In a room to the left the date 1799 has been scratched upon one of the
window-panes, but the erection of the Hall must have been long before
that time. For the rest, it is a rambling old house with thick walls
and deep window embrasures. The ceilings are moderately high. There is
an old-fashioned garden at the back, with fruit and shady trees and a
particularly handsome copper beech.
The Hall has long been used as a farmhouse, and scarcely one out of
the hundreds of visitors to the Matlock district who go on pilgrimages
to Lea Hurst knows of its interesting association. The old lady who
occupied it at the time of my visit was not a little proud of the fact
that for forty-four years she had lived in the first English home of
Florence Nightingale.
The casual visitor might think the district amid which our heroine’s
early years were spent was a pleasant Derbyshire wild and nothing
more, but it has also much historic interest. Across the meadows from
Lea Hall are the remains of the stately mansion of Dethick, where
dwelt young Anthony Babington when he conspired to release Mary Queen
of Scots from her imprisonment at Wingfield Manor, a few miles away.
Over these same meadows and winding lanes Queen Elizabeth’s officers
searched for the conspirators and apprehended one at Dethick. The
mansion where the plot was hatched has been largely destroyed, and
what remains is used for farm purposes. Part of the old wall which
enclosed the original handsome building still stands, and beside it is
an underground cellar which according to tradition leads into a secret
passage to Wingfield Manor. The farm bailiff who stores his potatoes
in the cellar has not been able to find the entrance to the secret
passage, though at one side of the wall there is a suspicious hollow
sound when it is hammered.
The original kitchen of the mansion remains intact in the bailiff’s
farmhouse. There is the heavy oak-beamed ceiling, black with age, the
ponderous oak doors, the great open fireplace, desecrated by a modern
cooking range in the centre, but which still retains in the overhanging
beam the ancient roasting jack which possibly cooked venison for Master
Anthony and the other gallant young gentlemen who had sworn to liberate
the captive Queen. In the roof of the ceiling is an innocent-looking
little trap-door which, when opened, reveals a secret chamber of some
size. This delightful old kitchen, with its mysterious memories, was a
place of great fascination to Florence Nightingale and her sister in
their childhood, and many stories did they weave about the scenes which
transpired long ago in the old mansion, so near their own home. It was
a source of peculiar interest to have the scenes of a real Queen Mary
romance close at hand, and gave zest to the subject when the sisters
read about the Babington plot in their history books.
Dethick Church, where our heroine attended her first public service,
and continued to frequently worship so long as she lived in Derbyshire,
formed a part of the Babingtons’ domain. It was originally the private
chapel of the mansion, but gradually was converted to the uses of a
parish church. Its tall tower forms a picturesque object from the
windows of Lea Hall. The church must be one of the smallest in the
kingdom. Fifty persons would prove an overflowing congregation even now
that modern seating has utilised space, but in Florence Nightingale’s
girlhood, when the quality sat in their high-backed pews and the
rustics on benches at the farther end of the church, the sitting room
was still more limited. The interior of the church is still plain and
rustic, with bare stone walls, and the bell ropes hanging in view of
the congregation. The service was quaint in Miss Nightingale’s youth,
when the old clerk made the responses to the parson, and the preaching
sometimes took an original turn. The story is still repeated in the
district that the old parson, preaching one Sunday on the subject of
lying, made the consoling remark that “a lie is sometimes a very useful
thing in trade.” The saying was often repeated by the farmers of Lea
and Dethick in the market square of Derby.
Owing to the fact that Dethick Church was originally a private chapel,
there is no graveyard. It stands in a pretty green enclosure on the
top of a hill. An old yew-tree shades the door, and near by are two
enormous elder-bushes, which have twined their great branches together
until they fall down to the ground like a drooping ash, forming an
absolutely secluded bower, very popular with lovers and truants from
church.
The palmy days of old Dethick Church are past. No longer do the people
from the surrounding villages and hamlets climb its steep hillside,
Sunday by Sunday, for, farther down in the vale, a new church has
recently been built at Holloway, which, if less picturesque, is
certainly more convenient for the population. On the first Sunday in
each month, however, a service is still held in the old church where,
in days long ago, Florence Nightingale sat in the squire’s pew, looking
in her Leghorn hat and sandal shoes a very bonny little maiden indeed.