Tag: 18th-century
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Crossing the Murk Esk and the Dream for a Canal
I have passed through Grosmont many times before, yet somehow missed this ford across the River Murk Esk. It sits quietly at the foot of Lease Rigg, one of a pair of crossings of the river that seem to defy both logic and geology. The cliff rising on the eastern side makes it clear why…
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1772: A Path, A Stone, A Hanging
The so-called “Miners’ Trod”, with Cold Moor rising beyond it, cuts a broad, unsightly scar along the hillside courtesy of the forestry workers. The path’s name comes from the nineteenth-century jet-miners, though it is unlikely they were its first users. That large boulder to the left bears the date “1772” and a scatter of initials,…
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Ormiclate Castle: A Chateau and a Canal
The crumbling shell of Caisteal Ormaceit — Ormiclate Castle — sits quietly in a farm steading now, unmarked by the brown tourist signs, its past more dramatic than its present suggests. Once a grand new seat for Allan Macdonald of Clanranald, it burned to ruin on the same day he was fatally wounded at the…
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Rievaulx Bridge: Monks, Floods, and Tanks
In 1826, William Turner stood on this bridge to paint his famous view of Rievaulx Abbey. Anyone hoping to recreate his masterpiece today would be sorely disappointed, thanks to the abundance of trees along the river and the endless stream of traffic rattling across the bridge. This three-arched, hump-backed structure, built from limestone ashlar, replaced…
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From Leprosy to Ropewalks: The Forgotten History of Spital Beck
A tired old fishing boat, its hull a faded patchwork of blue and white, sits abandoned on the shingles at Whitby harbour, marooned by the tide and neglect. It has not tasted the sea in years. This sad tableau, no doubt, repeats itself in harbours all around our coast. In the background, a jumble of…
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Rievaulx Abbey: A Picturesque View from an 18c Vanity Project
Charles Dickens, ever the enthusiast, was beside himself with admiration for Rievaulx Abbey, and who could blame him? This Cistercian marvel, nestled in a lush green valley and surrounded by dense woodland, is a particularly fine ruin—courtesy of Henry VIII’s systematic penchant for tearing down monasteries. Perched above it, Rievaulx Terrace lords over the scene,…
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Windermere and its History No One Wants to Discuss
It was a bit wet this morning in the Lakes, so here is a photograph from yesterday’s walk up Wansfell instead. This is, of course, Windermere, England’s largest lake, famed for its picturesque scenery but cursed with a history no postcard could capture. And I don’t mean the recent sewage discharge debacle. A favourite with…
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Kildale’s Agrarian Past
A stunning view of Kildale, seen from the sandstone crags of Ward Nab. Kildale, with its postcard-worthy scenery and quaint stone buildings, represents the sort of agricultural nostalgia many enjoy romanticising. Yet, beneath this charming façade lies a tale of upheaval and supposed progress. In the 18th century, Kildale’s open fields were carved up through…
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Smugglers of the North York Moors
For some inexplicable reason, I find myself riveted by this ruined barn overlooking above the Esk Valley railway. I have taken to photographing it with a slavish devotion, each time I pass, but usually something with more interest has turned up. This barn, apparently, is recorded on the North York Moors historical monuments database, albeit…
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From a Templars’ Retreat to a Cobbler’s Last Stand: The Many Lives of Brathwatte
I see a rock outcrop on the crest of a hill and feel a maddening urge to investigate. So, naturally, I ended up on Tor Hill Crags, gazing down over Westerdale. Or, perhaps, that should be Camisedale—a name found in the Domesday Book, while Westerdale, notably, is not. The general presumption is that they are,…