Thursday, 24 September 2026

THE HOUSE ON GRANGE LANE

bout halfway up Grange Lane sits the reason this quiet road connecting Sheffield and Rotherham gets its name. Many locals don't even know the house is there, and those who do are rarely sure of its purpose. The house is Thundercliffe Grange, an impressive estate set in 22 acres. I've been here before, but I'm back on another history mission—and I'm not sorry.

​When I visited back in 2024, I focused on the incredible story of the group who turned it into a ground-breaking co-living success, I blogged about that here. This time, I wanted to dive deeper into the history of the building and the land itself—a site sitting right on the ancient border territory between Roman Britain and the Celtic tribes, the very same ridge line I walked along just last week.
​That history stretches right back to the 13th century. In 1261, following the death of a local hermit named Robert Le Cras, the lands were granted to Kirkstead Abbey. The Cistercian monks established a grange near the stream to mine and smelt iron, an industrial operation that ran until the 15th century. When ironworking ceased, the land was leased to the Rokeby family, who eventually bought the estate outright from the Crown in 1539 following Henry VIII’s Dissolution of the Monasteries.
​Over the generations, the estate passed into the hands of the Earls of Effingham. The core of today's grand mansion was built in 1777 for Thomas Howard, the 3rd Earl. Originally two storeys high, it was expanded around 1854 with a third floor and extra wings. Tucked away in the woods lies one of its most unusual surviving Georgian features: a subterranean, spring-fed plunge pool—or 'Russian bath'—built for aristocrats to shock their systems for health benefits long before cold-water swimming became a modern trend.
​​The Effinghams stopped using the Grange in the late 1860s, opening a new chapter for the house. In 1872, it was leased by Dr Atkinson, who established a private asylum for women on the estate. With its grand interiors and sprawling grounds, it was at least an opulent place to be confined.

It was later taken over by Dr Clapham and Dr Mould, who continued running it as a medical facility right up until the Second World War.

​In 1948, with the dawn of the NHS, Sheffield City Council acquired the Grange, turning it into a specialized care facility for disabled children and those affected by thalidomide. Comedian Bob Monkhouse’s son, Simon, was famously cared for here before the facility closed its doors in 1978.
​Two years later, a group of friends bought the estate, converting it into 12 private apartments while keeping the grand ground-floor state rooms and 22 acres communal.
​Stepping back onto the grounds for this return visit, you can feel every layer of that past. This time I was accompanied by my youngest daughter Rags, who has a keen interest in history, and her son, my grandson Atreus. We loved wandering through the main house, checking out the old estate outbuilding ruins, and tracking down that plunge pool in the woods—it really brought the timeline to life. It’s rare to find a single spot on the Rotherham border where a 13th-century hermit, Cistercian monks, Georgian Earls, Victorian doctors, and modern community pioneers all left their mark on the same land. If you're ever in the area and fancy visiting, though, it's important to know that the estate is private and access is only allowed on these special open days.

The spirit of the Urban Viking—and the occasional absurdity of navigating the modern world—lives on in my webcomic, Northman. 

You can read the latest chapter here: northman.kirt.me.uk

I’ll be sharing more of my journey and the daily reality of staying grounded in the modern world over on social media. Join in:

6 comments:

  1. An interesting tour, thanks for taking us along! I can't believe how big Atreus is getting already -- they grow so fast!

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    1. Glad you enjoyed it. Atreus is growing fast, it's a brilliant adventure.

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  2. That's fascinating. How did a hermit own all that land? Oh, I suppose there's no reason why a hermit couldn't be a landowner now I think of it.
    In the novel I'm sort of writing I've got an old stately home that used to be an asylum and is about to be knocked down and the heroine is going to fight for it because it turns out her great-aunt was unfairly 'imprisoned' there. (I can't think of the word.) You didn't really need to know that but it reminds me I haven't done anything on it for months and probably won't.

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    1. Hermits didn't own land and usually were granted a small plot and lived at the pleasure of the Lord. When this chap died the land was granted to the monks who's lands expanded into the larger estate it became.

      Thats an interesting premise for a book, the real life story of how these friends got together to buy and restore this manor house is equally as fascinating.

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  3. Thanks. I had not heard about Thundercliffe Grange before. I notice that there are several marked public footpaths in that area and I may go up there soon for a nice circular walk. Shame that the open days are few and far between.

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    1. I've walked many of those walks over the years (I used to live on the other side in Shiregreen before switching to the other side of the valley). The open days are usually around this time of year, keep an eye on the heritage open days website.

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𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊, 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗.

ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ, ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴀʟᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴜꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ʟɪᴠᴇʟʏ ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴅᴇʙᴀᴛᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴀʟʟ — ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍꜱᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘ ᴍɪɴᴅ.

ʙᴜᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀꜱ: ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ʀᴜᴅᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘᴀᴍ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛʟʏ ᴄᴀꜱᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴠᴇɴꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.

ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴀ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴇᴍᴏᴊɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅᴏ — ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ɴᴏᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɴᴄʜᴇꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ.

ɴᴏᴡ, ᴡᴀʀᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ.