Wentworth Woodhouse and Rotherham

Wentworth Woodhouse was for sale. It's a crazy place. It sits above Sheffield and Rotherham on the edge of the moors. It is enormous. It is the longest house in Europe, at 604 feet. It has an amazing history, and it is worth looking it up one day. It even has associations going right back to William the Conqueror.

Have a look at this article about the history of the house.

The history of the place takes us right down to the end of the twentieth century when the then owner went bust and the place was put up for sale. This is when the Unique Property guys got involved. It was up for sale for £2 million. Russ insisted that he did not want to bid for it. He thought we could get it for a million if we waited. I said that at two million it was a steal, and worked out at about £10 a square foot. We could house half of South Yorkshire in the place.

It was a winter's day, with snow on one side of the motorway, but not on the other, when I drove up to one of the entrances, and looked puzzled as to where the front door was. Actually, it turned out to be the stables, which were enormous. The house was further down the drive.

There were so many parts of the building that looked like impressive entrances, but of course the front faced south-east across a wide lawn, with a view right down to Rotherham in the valley below.

There were quadrangles, state rooms, odd corners, and corridors everywhere. There were supposed to be five miles of underground passageways.

We progressed from room to room along a quarter of the front, then ducked back and round one of the quadrangles. Behind one of these blocks was a small lawn edged with rhododendrons, beneath which a colony of rabbits scutted about.

The main facade was awesome, but the stone was black with the grime from years of smoke and filth from the collieries.

The place is, ultimately, too big to deal with. If we'd bought it we would have gotten ourselves into a terrible mess. But there is a sense of regret that Russ wanted to get it even cheaper and we missed out. After all, it was sold again a few years later for £15 million. Now that's a nice profit!

Last week I was back, but not to the top of the hill at Wentworth. I had simply come to argue (and win) a case I had against Streetwise Marketing, who sold me a service for multi-currency mortgages which failed to live up to its promises, and they were refusing to honour their money-back guarantee.

Rotherham was like the front of the big house, with all the older buildings covered in black grime, giving the place a depressing aspect.

Rotherham obviously suffers from being too close to Sheffield. As a town she is obviously the poor sister. The place looks partially deserted. There are ruins and derelict buildings within 100 yards of the centre. In fact, right in the centre of the town is one street where 75% of the buildings are boarded up.

There is a sad attempt at modernising the place. A ring road barges right through the town, and there are a couple of big square concrete monstrosities, including the public library which don't do much for the place.

I could find nothing that would induce me to return except for the prices. Breakfast was on offer for £1.99. Two lunches could be had for £6.99, and of course there was that wonderful speciality of the Midlands, the pork sandwich with apple sauce. The one I had in Rotherham was even better than the ones I get in that fabulous little cafe down a side-street in Dudley.

A roll was buttered with the apple sauce, and then great doorsteps of pork were sliced off the bone. There was enough meat to feed three people. On top of that was a golden crust of crackling, which the girl pulled off the carcass and arranged on top. It took me ten minutes to eat my way through it all. Fabulous!

And then I drove back out to the motorway, over a road which was the most uneven stretch of highway I have driven on in the UK.

I only hope the rest of the UK doesn't look so poor, or it is going to be sad trip.

Wentworth Woodhouse and Rotherham

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