Elizabeth Gaskell’s House, Manchester
Strong interpretation has made this family home of a Victorian writer and her unitarian minister husband come alive, says Sara Holdsworth
The houses of one’s favourite authors can disappoint as well as enthral. Writers live through their words rather than their possessions, and unless their homes radiate with the spirit of their writing, like the famously numinous Dove Cottage and Haworth Parsonage, how do you capture the genius of the person through the place?
This is a particular problem with Elizabeth Gaskell, who is more associated with her childhood town, Knutsford, in Cheshire, than the home of her maturity in Plymouth Grove, Manchester, where she wrote Mary Barton, Cranford and indeed all the novels that made her name.
Equally problematic for the restorers of Elizabeth Gaskell’s House is that her husband, William, was as well known in his day as she was. He was the Unitarian minister for Cross Street Chapel, a great committee man and an educationalist. When he died, 1,000 people gathered to remember him.
The Manchester Historic Buildings Trust has sensibly responded by recreating the house as “a family home that was also the house of an important writer” rather than as a shrine to Elizabeth.
Formerly a decaying student hostel on the fringes of the University of Manchester campus, it finally opened to the public in October 2014 after decades of indefatigable campaigning and fundraising. The scrubbed neoclassical exterior now gleams in the midst of one of Manchester’s scruffy inner suburbs.
Meticulous recreation
Today’s visitors enter through the original front door and, like the Gaskells’ friends 150 years ago, use the imposing bell pull to ring for admittance. Inside, visitors are directed to a sequence of ground-floor rooms.
Considerable research has gone into making the recreation as accurate as possible, with wood-grained finishes and carpets, curtains and wallpapers that are right for the period.
Unusually for a middle-class house, there is good evidence of what would have been there. Elizabeth’s diaries and letters contain a wealth of chatty information not only about what the family ate and where they played and worked, but the soft furnishings and bibelots.
Some of the family’s furniture and personal possessions have been returned on loan. William’s study has perhaps the most authentic atmosphere of the 1860s thanks to its original bookcases and mass of Unitarian memorabilia.
But what really makes the house come alive is the interpretation of the rooms. Volunteers introduce the stories and social history behind each object, and buzz with enthusiasm, knowledge and commitment.
A series of well-written folders, placed on tables and by armchairs so one can read in comfort, covers an extraordinary range of topics about the family and every detail of their lives and milieu.
Elizabeth’s great gift for entertaining her friends is vividly demonstrated. Charles Dickens visited, as did John Ruskin and Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Charlotte Brontë was so shy that she hid behind the drawing room curtains rather than meet another caller.
Travels around Britain
Other details complicate the standard view of the Gaskells’ relationship with their home city. Elizabeth wrote that William “does like Manchester better than any other place in the world; and his study the best place in Manchester”.
She, however, seems to have often been happier when away. Her passport, prominently displayed in the drawing room, is a reminder of her constant trips around Britain and Europe. At the time of her sudden death aged 55 she was secretly buying a house in Hampshire for the couple’s retirement, to which William never moved.
There are some imaginative touches in the interpretation of the house, such as the Victorian boxes that, when opened, play Lancashire dialect ballads or the sound of a scratching nib.
The team is working on the recreation of the library, adding to the collection of books the Gaskells read. I enjoyed being able to pick these off the shelves and browse at William’s desk. Eventually, each book will carry a bookplate explaining its significance to the family.
Literary cafe
A screen above the mantelpiece in the morning room introduces visitors to the Gaskells succinctly and simply with a collage of words and images.
The interactives that allow you to compare the manuscript and printed versions of a story and the map of Manchester’s landmarks are less effective, as the blown-up text is blurred and hard to read. A timeline for the family and concurrent local and national events would also help situate their busy and connected lives.
The trust has restricted the period reconstructions to the ground floor. The first floor hosts modest exhibitions and has rooms for hire and education projects. The basement cafe is a contemporary nod to a Victorian kitchen rather than having a full-on copper jelly-mould look.
Like the rest of the house, this is staffed by volunteers and serves tea and homemade cakes at bargain prices. It has the potential to attract a tea-time crowd in its own right and animate the house as a sociable space.
A bookcase along one wall turns out to be an informal secondhand bookshop, so one can browse and buy while having tea. The combination of intellectual pursuits and chatty sociability exactly reflects the Gaskell lifestyle. Elizabeth and William would have approved.
In the month after opening, the house had an impressive 2,000 visitors. Entry costs £4.95, but tickets cover return visits for a year. Free open days have attracted locals and there are plans for music, theatre and book clubs.
It is too early to judge whether Elizabeth Gaskell's House can achieve its ambition to become a hub for the local community. With the Victorians no longer compulsory on the primary curriculum, staff may have to work hard to attract school groups.
The house triumphantly recreates Elizabeth’s world and writing, but also succeeds in telling an unfamiliar but important story about “dear, busy, noble-working” Manchester.
Rather than dark satanic mills and scurrying Lowry-esque poor, it reveals a sunlit suburban world of the liberal, free-thinking middle classes who supported the burgeoning cultural life of the city and campaigned for the reforms that were ultimately to change attitudes to poverty, education and suffrage across the country.
Sara Holdsworth, a former head of programmes at Manchester Art Gallery, is a museum and gallery consultant
This is a particular problem with Elizabeth Gaskell, who is more associated with her childhood town, Knutsford, in Cheshire, than the home of her maturity in Plymouth Grove, Manchester, where she wrote Mary Barton, Cranford and indeed all the novels that made her name.
Equally problematic for the restorers of Elizabeth Gaskell’s House is that her husband, William, was as well known in his day as she was. He was the Unitarian minister for Cross Street Chapel, a great committee man and an educationalist. When he died, 1,000 people gathered to remember him.
The Manchester Historic Buildings Trust has sensibly responded by recreating the house as “a family home that was also the house of an important writer” rather than as a shrine to Elizabeth.
Formerly a decaying student hostel on the fringes of the University of Manchester campus, it finally opened to the public in October 2014 after decades of indefatigable campaigning and fundraising. The scrubbed neoclassical exterior now gleams in the midst of one of Manchester’s scruffy inner suburbs.
Meticulous recreation
Today’s visitors enter through the original front door and, like the Gaskells’ friends 150 years ago, use the imposing bell pull to ring for admittance. Inside, visitors are directed to a sequence of ground-floor rooms.
Considerable research has gone into making the recreation as accurate as possible, with wood-grained finishes and carpets, curtains and wallpapers that are right for the period.
Unusually for a middle-class house, there is good evidence of what would have been there. Elizabeth’s diaries and letters contain a wealth of chatty information not only about what the family ate and where they played and worked, but the soft furnishings and bibelots.
Some of the family’s furniture and personal possessions have been returned on loan. William’s study has perhaps the most authentic atmosphere of the 1860s thanks to its original bookcases and mass of Unitarian memorabilia.
But what really makes the house come alive is the interpretation of the rooms. Volunteers introduce the stories and social history behind each object, and buzz with enthusiasm, knowledge and commitment.
A series of well-written folders, placed on tables and by armchairs so one can read in comfort, covers an extraordinary range of topics about the family and every detail of their lives and milieu.
Elizabeth’s great gift for entertaining her friends is vividly demonstrated. Charles Dickens visited, as did John Ruskin and Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Charlotte Brontë was so shy that she hid behind the drawing room curtains rather than meet another caller.
Travels around Britain
Other details complicate the standard view of the Gaskells’ relationship with their home city. Elizabeth wrote that William “does like Manchester better than any other place in the world; and his study the best place in Manchester”.
She, however, seems to have often been happier when away. Her passport, prominently displayed in the drawing room, is a reminder of her constant trips around Britain and Europe. At the time of her sudden death aged 55 she was secretly buying a house in Hampshire for the couple’s retirement, to which William never moved.
There are some imaginative touches in the interpretation of the house, such as the Victorian boxes that, when opened, play Lancashire dialect ballads or the sound of a scratching nib.
The team is working on the recreation of the library, adding to the collection of books the Gaskells read. I enjoyed being able to pick these off the shelves and browse at William’s desk. Eventually, each book will carry a bookplate explaining its significance to the family.
Literary cafe
A screen above the mantelpiece in the morning room introduces visitors to the Gaskells succinctly and simply with a collage of words and images.
The interactives that allow you to compare the manuscript and printed versions of a story and the map of Manchester’s landmarks are less effective, as the blown-up text is blurred and hard to read. A timeline for the family and concurrent local and national events would also help situate their busy and connected lives.
The trust has restricted the period reconstructions to the ground floor. The first floor hosts modest exhibitions and has rooms for hire and education projects. The basement cafe is a contemporary nod to a Victorian kitchen rather than having a full-on copper jelly-mould look.
Like the rest of the house, this is staffed by volunteers and serves tea and homemade cakes at bargain prices. It has the potential to attract a tea-time crowd in its own right and animate the house as a sociable space.
A bookcase along one wall turns out to be an informal secondhand bookshop, so one can browse and buy while having tea. The combination of intellectual pursuits and chatty sociability exactly reflects the Gaskell lifestyle. Elizabeth and William would have approved.
In the month after opening, the house had an impressive 2,000 visitors. Entry costs £4.95, but tickets cover return visits for a year. Free open days have attracted locals and there are plans for music, theatre and book clubs.
It is too early to judge whether Elizabeth Gaskell's House can achieve its ambition to become a hub for the local community. With the Victorians no longer compulsory on the primary curriculum, staff may have to work hard to attract school groups.
The house triumphantly recreates Elizabeth’s world and writing, but also succeeds in telling an unfamiliar but important story about “dear, busy, noble-working” Manchester.
Rather than dark satanic mills and scurrying Lowry-esque poor, it reveals a sunlit suburban world of the liberal, free-thinking middle classes who supported the burgeoning cultural life of the city and campaigned for the reforms that were ultimately to change attitudes to poverty, education and suffrage across the country.
Sara Holdsworth, a former head of programmes at Manchester Art Gallery, is a museum and gallery consultant
Project data
- Cost £2.56m
- Main funders Heritage Lottery Fund £1.8m; Bowland Charitable Trust; Cross Street Chapel; English Heritage; Foyle Foundation; Gaskell Society; J Paul Getty Jr Charitable Trust; Manchester City Council; Oglesby Charitable Trust; Pilgrim Trust; Garfield Weston Foundation; Wolfson Foundation
- Architect BTP
- Landscape architect Randall Thorp
- Exhibition design 24 Design; Creative Concern
- Conservation Nettie Cook
- Period rooms consultant Dorian Church