Rival Reviews: Staircase House
600+ years of history, and only just now named ‘The Best Place to Live in the North West’? What do they know that we don't?
The nonedescript entrance to Staircase House
Stockport is a bit of a weird one. A town on the edge of the city of Manchester, separate but still intrinsically linked to the Northern metropolis, it’s been knocking around since 1170, when it was recorded as ‘Stokeport’, a small hamlet that likely operated as a marketplace. But despite a long and on the whole respectable history, it’s until recently been known as a dodgy, inferior counterpart to edgy Manchester, which styles across as a cheaper, hipper London.
Historically this seems a bit unfair, because at the onset of the Industrial Revolution, Stockport was also a big hitter. While Manchester was earning its nickname: ‘Cottonopolis’, Stockport had been the BNOC of the hat manufacturing industry since the 16th century. This once small town was churning out more than 6 million pieces of headgear a year by the late 1800’s, exporting wares across Europe. This economic growth took a toll however, and in 1844, the 19th century philosopher and Communism truther Friedrich Engels described Stockport as ‘one of the duskiest, smokiest holes’ in the industrial area. Harsh, but probably fair. Stockport’s days as a pro hat environment were numbered however. In the early 1900’s, World War 1 cut off overseas demand for headwear, and other countries built their own local industries to uphold demand, saturating Stockport’s brand. The threat was also domestic, as cheaper products from the likes of the town of Luton were stealing business with Shein-coded knock-off hats. The killing blow came however when we all decided that hats just weren't that fashionable anymore, and head accessorization was out. Nevertheless, the last Hatworks factory clung on until closing in 1997, bringing to an end 400 glorious hat-making years in Stockport.
Like many Victorian industrial towns in the north, Stockport has been on the outs for much of the 20th century. Mention it to a holier-than-thou Manchester resident, and they might make a face usually associated with finding something unpleasant on the sole of your shoe. But this is unwarranted.
At the risk of sounding like a promotional pamphlet. Stockport is a town in the midst of an ambitious redevelopment project. Long neglected buildings are being refashioned as places for young businesses, and local people. Heritage is being honoured and unique features like the Stockport Underbanks are being lovingly preserved and revitalised. Were I a braver woman, I might even dare to say Stockport is what Manchester was about 20 years ago, and thinks it still is (oops).
On its long list of attributes, Stockport also has a variety of heritage attractions. Visitors can explore a network of WW2-era air raid shelters, visit the local art gallery, take a tour round the only dedicated national museum of hatting in the UK, and (significant for us) pop in on a late medieval merchants' house next to the 700-year-old Market Place.
The latter is why I am here today. The house, known colloquially as Staircase House after its Jacobean cage newel staircase, is unique for a number of reasons, and not least for thinking its set of stairs is really that good/interesting. Built around 1460, it’s the oldest surviving dwelling in Stockport. Remember all that hat-making I was talking about earlier? This house saw it all come and go.
The house has inhabited many a vibe in its time. Kevin McCloud would have loved it. Built in 1460, its first iteration was that of a cruck-framed building. A cruck is a piece of curved timber, usually that of a tree trunk and a sturdy branch due to the natural 90 degree angle, that supports a roof. There’s about 4000 such buildings currently still standing in the UK. The bent timbers used to create a cruck a-frame were pretty rare in buildings in this period, as they were also in high demand for ships. Staircase House probably began life as your average medieval hall, an all-purpose building where the family and their servants ate and slept together in cosy harmony.
However in 1620, we know the house had morphed into a box-framed building. This style consisted of equally sized rooms placed next to and on top of each other dollhouse-style until you decided your house was big enough. It was probably around this time that the house was occupied by wealthy merchants (probably hat or fabric merchants), the Shallcross family, meaning it would have been pretty classy digs.
And sure enough, with Hat Money being what it is, around 90 years later it has been recorded that the house had received substantial extensions, increasing its size by almost half. If there was such a thing as a conservatory, this house would definitely have had one.
Finally in 1810 the house was completed with a red brick frontage, the preferred vibe for the period. But hard times were ahead and when the money from Big Hat dried up, the house was slowly abandoned and left to fall into disrepair.
The house then sat abandoned until it was recognised as being of historical importance in 1955, but it wasn’t until the 1990’s that money began to be raised to restore it. Most unfortunately, before the work could begin, a large fire consumed the property in 1995, almost destroying it entirely. Spoiler alert - the house survived! Official restoration began in 2001, and took 2 and a half years to complete. And just over 20 years later, here I am - ready to explore the risen phoenix of Staircase House.
Today the house has been laid out to represent the eras between the 1400’s to the 1940’s. There are 16 rooms staged in various time periods chronologically, and a small explanatory room detailing the houses various iterations and the conservation effort to visit before you begin. Price includes admission and an audio guide if you fancy it. Audio guides are a mixed bag for me, too short and you wonder why you bothered, too long and you can hang around in one room like a lemon as you get increasingly disinterested in the spiel. This one is worth it on the whole, there are also fairly detailed written signs in each room, but the audio guide does include fresh information and some radio play style scenes set in various eras. It was slightly too long for me, but this is wholly subjective. I also got the impression the guide was slightly out of date, suggesting interactive activities that were not in evidence, or pointing out interesting parts of the room that seemed to have been since removed. Pandemic vibes.
Let’s have a quick whip round. The first room in the house is the basement store room, set in the 1650’s, disembodied animal noises and the relative gloom make the vibes deeply, deeply unnerving. From here you move on to the cold room, a dark space where plastic pig carcasses hang from the ceiling, I have a hatred for plastic food, which always looks grim. It is not an auspicious start and a world away from the grand entrance halls of a country house. I kind of dig it. Wouldn't want to be there after dark though, the vibes really are off.
Moving up, I get my first view of the famous stairs, where evidence of the fire is still charmingly, starkly visible in charred beams, then to the kitchen, where more icky plastic food awaits. I am finally upstairs however and the natural light is soothing. From here a viewing gallery shows parts of the wall stripped away so you can get a good look at all the gory details of different house building techniques over 600 years, a lovely visual. Then to the linen chamber, to explore Stockport’s primary output, and the tallow room, where we learn more about how dire life was before electricity was invented (Thank you to Alessandro Volta, Humphrey Davy and Joseph Swan, who all contributed to the invention of the electric lightbulb. Thomas Edison, if you can read this, it’s lame to take all the credit).
From here you loop back into the new build next door to get upstairs again to the counting house, ancestor to an office, where correspondence would be read and accounting attended to. This is followed appropriately by the dowry room, containing only a treasure chest for a bride's dowry. This was created during restoration by a traditional craftsman specifically for the house. You can then traverse the parlour, where the warped wooden floors ripples like a wave and make me feel a bit lightheaded, before entering a bedchamber with a hand embroidered canopy created by a local sewing club, and then a bright blue 18th century dining room with just the ickiest looking plastic food on the table. Foul.
Finally we pass through a 19th century parlour and hit up a bedroom stuck in the 1940’s, the last era in which the house was occupied. It even has an authentic smell. Then at last it’s back to the present, where we exit next to the loos. Nothing like modern plumbing to make you appreciate the world you live in now.
After that what more is there to do than leave? Though I would implore Stockport council to sort out the vibes in that basement, Staircase House is an unusual jewel. Hats off.
Lunch
No lunch space onsite, but there are plenty of alluring looking cafés and restaurants nearby that seem worth further exploration.
Is the café in the Stables or Kitchens?
The info sheets and guidebook need an update, the café has been walled off, sold, and is now a passable Mexican restaurant. This is not reflected in the signage, which is in need of an update.
Can I take my dog?
Nah, what? Of course not.
Can I take my kids?
Many of the rooms have kid-friendly activities and most objects in the house are fully interactive.
Walks
Staircase House is in the historic centre of Stockport, so unless the walk is to go get a coffee, no.
Well, what did you think?
I would say that though Staircase House is advertised as a walk through history, due to the pacing of the eras each room is styled in, I experienced it more as a slow amble through the 15th to 16th centuries, then a rocket-fuelled sprint across the next four centuries in the last couple of rooms. This may in part be because it is not always made clear where exactly in history you are standing. The house can be walked through at a pace, but there are activities in a couple of the rooms that leave invite you to linger, and appeal to adults and children alike. It is also not hugely busy, so you can appreciate the rooms in your own time. All in this is a very unique heritage space, I’ve certainly never seen a walk through time like this before, and I appreciate the clear care and attention to detail put in by the curators. I do also appreciate Staircase House’s tasteful non-use of mannequins, a creepy and expensive waste of time. Though I would say it would be nice to have known there was none before I explored the house, as the fear of turning a corner to be confronted by a dusty, shabbily-dressed horror was at times crippling. Worth a visit.