Magical History Tour: The Staircase House

At long last, I made good on my intention to visit the Staircase House in Stockport, caught a train for the first time since about October last year (not a harrowing endeavour for once!) and got a bit carried away with taking pictures, so they'll have to be sorted and split between a couple of posts.

Our destination today is the oldest surviving house in Stockport, a 15th century townhouse that joins onto the museum, which was covered in a couple of previous posts (part one and part two.) It also contains a cage-newel staircase, one of 3 that still exist in the UK (according to the Stockport council website); the one here was previously damaged in a fire and has since been restored, which results in an interesting contrast with gnarled, charred wood butting up against the restored structure. But that's getting ahead of ourselves, and while the staircase is the main draw, there's plenty to see here. So, let's start by contradicting the advice of salamander Danny Elfman and heading into the basement...

Being a bit of a phillistine, I couldn't help but think of The Evil Within down here. Also for some reason, the camera insisted on cooling off the colours with a bluish cast when in fact, this whole area was dimly lit with a warm, yellow cast, emulating candle light. The dim light was welcome for my sensitive eyes because with going between different places around town, I'd gone without my sunglasses for a bit; we're literally just talking about half an hour on an overcast day and that was enough for my photophobia to bloody kick off. Bastard.

 Into the cold room, where food would've been preserved. The ceilings down here are very low; I'm only 5'4" and was within a couple centimetres of getting clonked on the head.

Onto a little room with some drinking vessels and vino collapso. From here, we head up some stone steps and onto our first view of the staircase!

Not the most flattering photo but it's a tight space (there are other areas where you can get slightly better pictures further up.) The information at the foot of the stairs tells us...

"At the bottom of the stairs is the original front door of Staircase House, folded back against the wall which in those days was known as 'Shallcross Houses'. In the 1600s, you would have entered by a passageway leading from the street.

The staircase itself is the one which has given the building its modern name.

This magnificent carved staircase was added in about 1618 when the house was enlarged. The high quality of the workmanship is a good indication of the wealth and status of the Shallcross family.

 This is known as a 'cage newel staircase' from the design of the upright posts. Originally, these sturdy newel posts would have gone right up from the ground floor to the roof creating an enclosed, cage-like space. They seem to have been cut through at some point, perhaps to get the larger and grander furniture up the stairs! The intricate carving on the panels between the posts is known as 'strapwork'. This was very fashionable in the early 1600s.

You may be wondering why the wood is of different colours. In 1996, Staircase House which was then empty suffered a devastating fire. The upper parts of the staircase were completely burnt away. Luckily, with the aid of photographs and other records, it was possible to restore the beautiful staircase following the original design.

The lighter wood is the new timber used in the restoration." 

Onto the most important room in the house (not just my estimation - the info sheet said so as well!) where someone's put a big spread on.

 This window gives us a look at just how deep the walls are. Also of note, a suspiciously modern pestle and mortar; guessing someone popped down to Medieval TK Maxx for that little number - no judgement, I got a nice little granite one from there a few years ago and it's a belter. There may well be more elegant solutions to crushing garlic and grinding spices but there's just something particularly satisfying about doing it the old-fashioned way.

Coming from the kitchen, we have this wall in varying states of restoration, intentionally left that way to demonstrate different construction methods and alterations made throughout the life of the building. This section, according to the information on the stand, consists of woven wood and plaster from the 19th and 20th centuries.

Onto this rather eerie bedroom. In its day, this would've been pretty ritzy but to a modern visitor, it's got a bit of a spooky atmosphere about it, like something from one of Susan Hill's ghost stories.

 Some intricate carving on this chair, and the view looking back towards the room with the patchwork wall.

 An abundance of candles as we head into the tallow room...

 Some lanterns, further illuminated by the sheet on the table:

"In many of the rooms there are replica "lanthorns" made of wood  or metal, with panels of animal horn. Horn was very tough and, when polished, the thinner pieces allowed light to shine through.

[...] 

Lighting a house required considerable preparation and care. The cheapest candles were made with a wick of hemp or linen which was dipped in and out of tallow to thicken it. Tallow candles smelt foul and burnt smokily or dripped down the sides. More expensive candles were made from beeswax. From 1709 until 1831 candles were taxed, beeswax ones eight times as heavily as tallow ones! But, as they smelt far more pleasant than tallow candles, beeswax candles were much preferred by those who could afford them!" 

 

Some nice walkways take us to different parts of the building and down into the courtyard. We also have a decent view of the wattle and daub from this level. As an aside, back in the '90s, on a school trip to Tatton Old Hall, we were told that the daub was made with pig's blood. No idea what that was meant to achieve exactly but a cursory bit of research in 2026 calls bullshit on that one. Good to know.

 Next stop is the exhibition room, which contains this lovely wooden model of the house and other structures, also further damning evidence of this camera's struggles with focussing in low light conditions.

 This front here shows what is now the entrance to the building as seen from the marketplace outside.

Loving the details and tactile aspect to these models here (I didn't touch out of respect, but the layering of the little roof slates and the way the beams stand out from the walls there is just so satisfying.)

 Hairy statement roof!

(Well, it's thatched but still, it looks hairy, and that amuses me.)

 One last look at the wooden models before moving onto the Counting House... but given the choice, I could take in the details and texture on these wooden models all day. Mmmm.

 Quills and ink on the desk, ready for some writing if you fancy giving it a go. Earlier in the day, I'd picked up a book (Cosmos by Carl Sagan, late the the party but looking forward to reading it) and didn't fancy running the risk of getting ink on it, so no fancy penmanship for today...

 Pearl was feeling a bit gangsta though, by the look of things.

Some more context on this area...

"The counting house would have been a kind of office, or study, used regularly by Mr Shallcross. He might have come here to write letters, or do his book-keeping, using the ledgers on the desks. Money would also be kept safe in here, locked in a large chest.

 The Shawcrosses' [sic] wealth came mainly from the land they owned near Whaley Bridge in Derbyshire. Some of their income came directly from the land they farmed themselves. Some came from leasing land to tenants. They also had a variety of other business interests though, including coal mining.

All their accounts had to be written out by hand and so good, clear hand-writing was very important. The main tools for writing then were feather pens, or quills -  usually goose - which were sharpened (with what we still call a "pen knife") to make a nib and then dipped into ink."

 In the dowry room we have some embroidery! Always a pleasure. Judging by the different designs and two signatures, this might be a mixture of older and newer designs. There wasn't any extra information specific to this display to clue us in on the details.

Onto the parlour, where the panelling was damaged in the fire, so this is restored panelling here. Damn near had a fucking coronary in this room because there was an uppity floorboard that made a right horrendous noise when I stood on it, and I thought something had broken, but thankfully no harm, no foul. Crucially, there's also bread on the table...

 And hats!

 There's also more room here to appreciate the staircase.

Onto another bedroom, only marginally less eerie than the other one, and featuring some very lovely crewelwork on the canopy/drapes.

 Look at those patterns!

Also of note, according to the info sheet, the base of the bed was made from ropes that would need to be tightened to keep it from sagging.

Next stop is jumping an entire century forward, into an 18th century dining room, which the camera dulled down considerably. To the eye, the walls in this room are a nice, light, airy turquoise. The info sheet notes a shift in social attitudes towards a more sophisticated (and hygienic) approach to dining, influenced by French culture. I'm taking this opportunity to once again recommend 'A Bite-Sized History of France' by Stéphane Hénaut and Jeni Mitchell - it's a fascinating read, well worth your time if you're interested in culinary history.

 By this time I'd already smashed back a Greggs tuna crunch baguette in the marketplace (proper dirty comfort food, no regrets), so frankly, the scran 'ere didn't strike me as particularly appealing, but to each their own.

Into the Regency era parlour, with a pinecone of dubious origin...

 Into a 1940s bedroom now, when this house was still occupied as a family home. Stockport suffered bombing raid alerts due to its proximity to Manchester and Liverpool; there are air raid shelters en route to the train station, which have also been repurposed as a museum.

This beautifully illustrated old Christmas card, which kind of reminded me of the intro to At Home with Vic and Bob. Maybe Mulligan and O'Hare are there belting out some carols - I live in hope.

 

Also the quilting here is to die for. Just sayin'.

 Finishing up the tour, we head down the stairs and back to the marketplace. There's a cute, if a bit worn, sign out front.

 And the house seen from 'round the back, near the Asda with the weird entrance that it's damn near impossible to work out where the hell you're actually supposed to head in (gave that one a miss on this occasion because I had a headache, a bit of a cob on, and I couldn't be arsed.)