Cave Restaurant

 

One lovable fact about history that I've had to face year after year of doing this blog is that the Victorians were fucking bonkers. In some parts of Shropshire that fact is driven home by a little bit more than the usual adorable follys and bookcase doorways. Instead we have cave dwellings, where people literally lived underground. This particular cave is said to pre-date the Victorian era, but it was around the 1850s that historic records start referring to it as a restaurant, and that is kinda nuts. I love it.

 

The cave was likely excavated in 1804 or 1805, simply because the bridge leading over to it was built on the 13th December 1804.

 

 

And it looks pretty good for something that's not been maintained for over a century. Old maps show the road over it leading directly to the cave, but there's no road anymore. If it wasn't for this very obvious bridge, there would be no clues it was ever here at all.

 

 

The bridge ends and the woods begin. 

 

 And to look at this cave, it's so completely covered in brambles and ivy that in the summer it's probably impossible to see. But before it was all overgrown, it would have been pretty scenic around here. According to the groundskeeper, a small bus would bring people here for refreshments in a nice woodland setting with a view of the river. I'm going to assume, based on the size of the cave itself, that many of the seats were outdoors, and I'm going to assume that the bus was a horse-drawn bus that would fit maybe six people at a time, although 1820s horse buses were known to fit up to sixteen passengers in fancier places like Paris, so who knows? Either way the trip out to this place would have been as pleasant and relaxing as actually being here. It made for a nice chilled day out.

 

Allegedly there's an outdoor toilet somewhere around here too, hidden under a mess of brambles near the cave. It's impossible to see now, but I assume it's still in better condition than the toilets in some pubs and clubs.

 

Slipping inside, it's easy to see where the original doorway was. It's still got its wooden frame. The inner walls are still partially covered in lime wash paint, but the floor is buried under a couple feet of dirt that's blown in over the last hundred years or so. I do wonder if there are any Victorian floor tiles lost under here somewhere.

 

One wall of the cave is open to the elements, and I'm not sure if that's intentional or if the sandstone wall has fallen away over time. I think if the restaurant was meant to be open like this, it wouldn't need a door. But it's very possible that there was a brick structure attached here once, and that this has been taken down. It's very rare that these cave structures were all cave. Usually the caves were simply incorporated into an actual building.

 

There's a little alcove here which quite possibly once had a little table and a couple of seats in it. It would be cute if the ceiling hadn't recently picked that exact spot to drop itself. 

Hmm... maybe I should keep this mooch quick.

 

So next to the main entrance door is an archway leading deeper into the cave.

 

 

So as far as historic documents go, it's actually the diary of Adelaide Darby that provides the most information about this place. But even that is a surprising source. Adelaide Darby is the grand daughter of Abraham Darby. She's also the great-grand daughter of... another Abraham Darby. And the great-great-grand daughter of... another Abraham Darby! Seriously, coming up with baby names is not this families strong point. But it was Adelaide's Grandfather who built Ironbridge's titular iron bridge, so they were pretty damn rich. She was also married to a politician, Henry Whitmore, who was the MP for Bridgnorth, and he's also been in this cave.

So it's interesting because you'd think something like a cafe operating out of a cave would cater more to the working class, but two of the regular patrons are a couple of rich folks from a nearby mansion.

The first mention of it is in Adelaide's diary entry from January 1853, when she mentions that she goes to "The Cave" with her friend Emily, who is the second daughter of Charles Whitmore, a rector at Stockton and no doubt a relative of Henry.

 

 

Henry Whitmore himself came here "for lunch" on the 17th October 1855, where he met with a mysterious gent called Mr Bluck. Adelaide and Henry seemed to do just about everything with Mr Bluck. He was their lifelong companion and presumably someone employed by them in some capacity. 

It's this diary entry that elaborates that "The Cave" was an eatery, and it even specifies its location, matching up with this one.

Adelaide doesn't really talk much more about it though. Her journal was more vocal of her opinions prior to her marriage, after which it became more an endless listing of where she went and who with. She was a busy woman. 

She mentions coming here twice more, once in September 1856 for tea, and again in September 1857, this time bringing her mother, Henry, Mr Bluck and her dog Toozie. Toozie was a bit of an escape artist, with many a journal entry despairing about how he was missing, only to be returned by the servants a few days later.

 

 

This deeper room of the cave has a raised platform that still has the remnants of some tiles on it. But was this a seating area? Because if food and drink was served here then one of these rooms had to be a small kitchen, and this one makes the most sense. It probably wasn't anything too extravagant, but if one supposes the actual floor of the cave is beneath a load of dirt, then it's entirely possible that these seat-level platforms are actually work surfaces. This could well be the area where food was prepared. I wish I knew exactly what. Maybe it was just sandwiches and salad.

 

 The walls of the cave are full of these square slots, which would have had either lamps or beams.

 

I presume there would have been a small Victorian stove in here. I'm not sure quite what the logistics are when it comes to operating a cafe out of a cave. But if one looks closely against the bottom of the rear wall, there are some symmetrical indentations that suggest that something was there. And if one looks at the upper wall on the right, there are some horizontal gashes where shelves used to be too. 

But what's really interesting is the graffiti. I'm going to focus rather heavily on it, because it's awesome and there is a lot of it. Starting with the door frame itself...

 

There's a bunch of scribbles here, one of which is dated 1939.

 

 

And here we have "MJC, Lord of the Manor, 6th April 1952." 

These initials don't match up with anyone from the nearest manor around this time, so I have no idea who this could be.

 

 

There's a few declarations of love here. And on the walls of the cave, the graffiti continues. 

 

 

John Matthews, in 1946, wrote his full address on the wall.

 

 

 

William Matthews of Norton, October 1st, 1942.

This looks like a child's handwriting. It's really incredible how all of this is preserved, but also that this cave got so much attention. Was it so hidden that by the 1940s it became something of a hidden gem to be sought out? What was it about this place that made everyone want to brag that they'd been here?

I'm not complaining. I think this is epic. I'm just a bit bewildered.

 

There's one here from 1935.

 

Fred Norgrove, 15, wrote in 1969 "I'm always for a bit of nice stuff."

 

 

R Mitchell was here squirrel shooting.

 

 

And someone from Walsall wrote his entire address on the wall in 1938. 

 

 

There's one here from 1665, but given that it's written in pencil and would predate the cave itself, I think that's just someone being facetious. 

 

 

There's some graffiti here claiming to be from the projectionists of one of the "Carry On" movies in 1967. Unfortunately I can't figure out which movie that is, because the final word is slightly faded.

Carry on Heroin?

 

 

There's one here from 1905. 

 

 

One from 1923.

 

And finally Eddie Cooke, in 1954, wrote "Anyone who reads this, write to..." and then he lists his full address, which has now faded away, although "Bridgnorth" is still visible. I did do some digging and found that he was born in 1935, so we can assume that he's probably not living at the address listed anymore. In fact it's highly possible that he's not living anywhere anymore. But just in case, please make no attempt at contacting him or anyone else who have listed their address on this cave. I do this to document history, not facilitate harassment.

 

It's amazing though. What we've done here is inadvertently stumble across a lost legend. Clearly this cave mattered to a lot of people throughout the years, as some sort of lost point of interest that they should totally consider an achievement for finding. Evidently they didn't have the benefit of the internet, so they probably pottered about in the woods for ages while the cave itself was buried under ivy and brambles. 

It's amazing that all this vintage graffiti still exists. This is some real history.

And it's amazing that before it became covered in the graffiti of those bragging that they found it, this place was a haunt of the likes of Adelaide Darby and her husband, Henry Whitmore, MP of Bridgnorth. And countless others probably came here to sit and enjoy the scenery over a cup of tea. It must have been quite nice back in its day.

To conclude, I do need to stress that the ceiling is collapsing in here so entering is probably not the smartest idea anymore, but I would love to return with a wide angle lens. It's very temporary. It should be documented while we have it.

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Thanks for reading!