Tag: history
-
Tudor Christmas: Twelve Days of Saints and Swans
Up at an unholy hour to climb up Roseberry Topping and watch the sunrise. We were not alone. The place was packed, because apparently nothing says “Christmas spirit” like elbowing strangers on a hilltop. In Tudor times, you would not have found the masses up here. They would have been at Mass, fulfilling their religious…
-
A Slog up Roseberry Topping and a Nod to Pagan Roots
I could claim it was a brisk dash up Roseberry Topping this morning, but in truth, it was more of a plodding trudge. Perhaps it only felt that way because I foolishly dressed for winter, not realising it would be unseasonably warm for Christmas Eve. This is the view from the summit, looking down on…
-
Lealholm and the story of John Castillo, Poet and Stonemason
Lealholm developed around the first place you could sensibly cross the River Esk, just downstream of the dramatic gorge of Crunkly Ghyll. In the good old days, people splashed through a ford until someone finally built this graceful 17th-century bridge, which managed to survive the disastrous 1930 flood—unlike the bridges further downstream in Glaisdale, Egton,…
-
Feeding Time at Clumber Park
Our annual family pilgrimage to the Dukeries of Nottinghamshire took place on a day so bitterly cold it felt as if the wind was personally attacking us. Two years since our last visit to Clumber Park, and it seems the National Trust has turned the festive season into a commercial extraganza. Extra off-road parking, a…
-
Hummersea’s Lost Industry Beneath Jurassic Cliffs
On the Cleveland Way, below Hummersea Farm, a Public Footpath descends toward what was, as a Victorian postcard once called it, a “beach.” The path has been generously cleared of bracken and other wild vegetation, and a few strategically placed trail markers beckoned me downward. Naturally, I followed. But halfway down, at a shiny new…
-
A Ruined Shelter, a Romantic Name, and some Random Latin
An opportunistic photograph, captured during a rare moment when the winter sun managed to pierce the unrelenting gloom of an overcast day. Here I am on Cold Moor—or, if you are feeling fanciful, Mount Vittoria Plantation. I prefer the latter; it has that pretentious 19th-century flair. This narrow strip of heather moor overlooks the Donna…
-
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…
-
Where Birch Meets Rust: A Forgotten Landmark
Descending from Highcliff Nab to Guisborough, I felt a sudden urge to revisit a landmark I often passed on my runs around these woods many years ago. This viewpoint, on top of a spoil heap from the Belmont Ironstone Mine, was mercifully spared the blight of commercial conifers—perhaps because even saplings had standards and found…
-
Greenhow Botton with a Fleeting Glimpse the Birthplace of Ivor Cummings
A view down Greenhow Botton towards Roseberry, which distinctive shape barely manages to poke above the skyline. Remarkably, it is a clear day—clear enough that, far off in the distance, from this the highest point of the North York Moors, Hartlepool is visible, gleaming faintly through a break in the clouds. Why bother mentioning Hartlepool,…
-
A Mild Christmas and Damnable Corsets: A Hundred Years Ago in Yorkshire
A sunny Roseberry loiters under a moody grey cloud, creating a scene that could make even the most indifferent observer take out their iPhone. Light and shadow play their parts, flaunting a contrast that seems to suggest nature itself has a flair for the dramatic. But exactly one hundred years ago, the 9th of December…