Not a summerhouse at all

The greenhouse at Hawkesyard as seen today, with its restored arched glazing beneath a castellated roofline, framed by turreted piers and oculus windows.

In Historic England’s listing, this Grade II structure is officially described as a “summerhouse”, a term suggesting a light, ornamental building intended for leisure. In reality, it was something very different.

Built in the 1840s, it formed part of an extensive glasshouse range stretching for over 100 yards along the hillside. Its alignment—running east to west with a fully south-facing elevation—was carefully designed to maximise sunlight, while its cast iron framing allowed for large areas of glazing. Together, these features created the precise conditions required for the cultivation of tropical plants.

This was not a decorative retreat but a working horticultural building. It was specifically used to grow exotic species, including Victoria regia and other tropical water plants—among the most demanding and prestigious displays in Victorian horticulture. Such plants required not only abundant light but also sustained heat and carefully controlled conditions, placing this structure firmly within the realm of advanced nineteenth-century garden technology.

The evidence for this survives in the fabric of the building itself. To the rear, built into the hillside, are a series of brick-vaulted chambers accessed through four-centred arches. These formed part of a heating system, distributing hot water generated by a coal-fired boiler. Installations of this kind were essential to maintain the high, stable temperatures needed for tropical cultivation and demonstrate that this was a sophisticated and carefully engineered environment.

Viewed from the north in 2025, the building reveals its internal structure through the restored arched glazing, each opening corresponding to a vaulted bay. Above, the plain wall with small windows preserves evidence of the building’s earlier adaptation prior to restoration.

The building’s later history obscured this original purpose. Following the death of Josiah Spode IV in 1893 and the donation of the estate to the Dominican Order the glazing was removed, blind panels inserted, and the roof replaced with asbestos cement. In this altered form it was repurposed by the Dominican monastic community as a bathhouse—an adaptation which masked its earlier function.

Interior of the former greenhouse during its use as a bath house at Hawkesyard. The building had by this stage been entirely adapted for institutional use, with tiled finishes, cubicles, and a central plunge bath replacing any earlier decorative features. This phase of use, probably mid-twentieth century, represents a complete transformation in both function and character.

The Dominican Order left the estate in the 1980s and by the time it was put up for sale in 1988 the building was in a dilapidated state.

By 1988 the greenhouse had become almost unrecognisable, its characteristic glazing replaced by small utilitarian openings and its structure partly obscured by vegetation. This view captures the building at its lowest ebb, following its adaptation as a bath house and subsequent decline.

Bought in 1999 by the current owners the estate has been much brought back into use. Recent restoration has reinstated the glazing and returned much of its original appearance. Now used as a garden room, the building still preserves the essential form of what was once a highly advanced Victorian glasshouse, designed not for ornament, but for the successful cultivation of some of the most spectacular plants of the age.

Following restoration, the greenhouse regained its defining features: a continuous range of arched glazing beneath a castellated roofline, turreted end piers and oculus windows. Its picturesque Gothic character is in marked contrast to its plain and altered appearance in 1988.

Related posts:

  1. A House of Two Gothics: Hawkesyard Explained Hawkesyard did not arrive fully formed. It grew by addition and adaptation, shaped by changing taste, belief, and circumstance. From Lister’s ordered Georgian Gothick to Spode’s confident Victorian Gothic, the house records how architecture, like family history, is built in layers rather than moments, across generations and acts of ambition...
  2. Nathaniel Lister In 1760 Nathaniel Lister built Armitage Park above the Trent, creating a refined Georgian retreat that reshaped the parish. Educated at Westminster and Oxford, Lister left more than a house: through landscape, learning and lineage, his influence reached far beyond Armitage into national life....
  3. A Victorian show garden By 1853 Hawkesyard, then still known as Armitage Park, was already being noticed as a place of unusual horticultural ambition. A visitor writing in the Cottage Gardener described it as “curious, interesting, and beautiful”, with undulating ground and wide views from the house. His main interest was the remarkable range...
  4. The tunnels The Tunnels Ask almost anyone who grew up in Armitage about Hawkesyard and the first thing they mention is not the house. It is the tunnels. Dark, cool and slightly forbidding, their stone entrances half-hidden by ivy and bramble, they have long stirred the imagination. Stories have travelled with them...

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *