No need to worry, I’m not turning this blog into a travel journal, but..
A reflection on Victoria Hall, Settle – by a sentimental wanderer with a taste for cake and Gothic revivalism
Settle, in the UK, as any weary pilgrim of the Dales knows, has more than its fair share of charm. There are towns that cling to their heritage with the nervous grip of a widow at a séance, and there are towns that wear it like a Sunday bonnet – gently, proudly, without fuss. Settle, it must be said, manages both. And nowhere is that more evident than in the peculiar, picturesque jewel that is Victoria Hall, a building so steeped in history it practically exhales the dust of old sermons, folk music, and the scent of linseed oil.
Erected in 1852, and opening its creaky doors a year later, this music hall is not merely a relic – it is, by most accounts, the oldest surviving purpose-built music hall in the United Kingdom. That’s not something to sniff at, unless you happen to be allergic to civic pride or sandstone. Designed by Sharpe and Paley, a firm whose name sounds like a minor Dickensian legal dispute, the building is a celebration of mid-Victorian restraint – quarried stone, arched windows, and an iron-canopied entrance that has likely sheltered everything from top hats to tantrums.
Its founder, the Reverend James Robinson, was, in that earnest Protestant way, obsessed with ‘moral improvement’. He envisioned the place as an educational and recreational centre – a platform for both uplift and entertainment. The idea that one might be simultaneously edified and amused was very much of the age. Think less ‘Netflix and chill’, and more ‘Temperance lecture followed by a parlour song and tepid tea.’
Through the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Victoria Hall transformed like a character in one of Ovid’s lesser-read epics. It became a cinema – first the Picturedrome, then the Kirkgate Kinema – where no doubt couples clutched hands under the flickering light of early talkies, and surly ushers muttered about peanuts. By 1921, it had passed into the hands of Craven District Council, and after some decades of intermittent use and structural sighing, it was lovingly restored in 2000 by the charitable trust Settle Victoria Hall Ltd. Today it wears its Grade II listing like a well-earned medal.
But this is no ossified relic. Victoria Hall is alive – ramshackle at times, but gloriously so. It plays host to musicians, comedians, storytellers, theatre troupes, and the occasional bemused academic with a PowerPoint presentation and delusions of grandeur. You might just as easily catch a brass band as a poetry slam. The programme is catholic in the truest sense of the word – universal, generous, a bit mad.
And then, round the back, like a secret garden in a children’s novel, lies Miss Victoria’s Refreshment Gardens. A splendid name for what is essentially a lovingly chaotic sprawl of picnic benches, fairy lights, ivy-choked trellises, and the faint smell of lemon drizzle. In the warmer months, it hums with life – vegan bakes, community gigs, local beer, and the sort of dogs that look like they own property. There’s a quiet egalitarianism to the space: families, pensioners, bohemian sorts with notebooks, and the odd solitary wanderer all cohabit it without suspicion.
The garden, though modest, has a soul. It is not unlike Eden, if you swapped cherubim for bunting and added a small stage for local folk musicians. Swifts dart, tea flows, and the walls seem to whisper stories – not just of what has been, but of what might yet come. There is, in its very existence, a quiet rebuttal to the tyranny of the algorithm, the retail park, and the concrete monoculture. It says: “Here is a place made by hands and hearts; come and sit awhile.”
That, perhaps, is what moves me most. In a world increasingly allergic to heritage unless it can be franchised or monetised, Settle’s Victoria Hall stands as an act of quiet rebellion. Not through protest, but through presence. It exists. It endures. And it does so not by chasing relevance, but by holding fast to community, conviviality, and the strange, sustaining magic of old buildings that still have something to say.
Like a good friend, it waits patiently – brimming with stories, warmed by laughter, and weathered by time.
References and Notes:
For architectural anoraks, the building is listed in the works of Sharpe, Paley and Austin, whose ecclesiastical flourishes often dressed up the stern Protestantism of the north.
The hall is cited as the oldest surviving purpose-built music hall in the UK by English Heritage and several regional cultural guides.
For more, see the listings on Visit Settle, TripAdvisor, and the official Victoria Hall website.
Miss Victoria’s Refreshment Gardens also host periodic open mic events, artisan markets, and seasonal celebrations such as Midsummer gigs and Winter storytelling evenings.
Oh, and an oddly interesting loo! A map of the world invites you to plonk your bottom on it while you contemplate your next Temu purchase.
And should you be on the loo pondering what to do next, why not Buy Me a Coffee.
Wording 