Tag: 18th-century
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Burnsall Moor Chimney: Too Small to Be Famous, Too Stubborn to Disappear
High on the moor south of Burnsall, a chimney stands alone among the remains of what was probably a boiler house. Nobody seems entirely sure what it is. At least I have found no creditable source. Opinion is that it belonged to one of the many small collieries that scratched away on these Yorkshire moors…
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Boxer Peacock’s Cottage, Arkengarthdale
Another post from last Thursday’s jaunt from Arkengarthdale, when I walked straight past one of the curiosities in the dale. On the track up from Fremington, I spotted what looked like a broken bit of Victorian drainpipe stuck in the bank, overflowing with water. I gave it barely a glance and walked on. Fool. Back…
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Glaisdale and the Enigma of T. H.
Some two hundred yards up from the foot of the lane that strains its way up Caper Hill, a dry-stone wall is built around a large orthostat. Rough-hewn at the edges and smoothed across its face, it carries a message cut by hand in the late seventeenth century. Kneeling in the damp and wind, its…
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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…