Tag: 18th-century
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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 ruinācourtesy of Henry VIIIās 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 yesterdayās walk up Wansfell instead. This is, of course, Windermere, Englandās largest lake, famed for its picturesque scenery but cursed with a history no postcard could capture. And I donāt mean the recent sewage discharge debacle. A favourite with…
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Kildaleās 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 faƧade lies a tale of upheaval and supposed progress. In the 18th century, Kildaleās 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 Templarsā Retreat to a Cobblerās 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 Camisedaleāa name found in the Domesday Book, while Westerdale, notably, is not. The general presumption is that they are,…
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Loch Druich: the Lull Before the Storm
Last night, we found ourselves upon the shores of Loch Druich, that serene lull before the delightful chaos of Storm Ashley. One could not help but note the poetic irony of fleeing eastward from natureās wrath, only to reflect on a past replete with violence. Loch Druich, naturally, is more than just a postcard. It…
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Lilac Cottage and Other Euphemisms for the Necessary
This humble structure, built around 1780, at a discrete distance from the Warren farmhouse, was none other than the privy ā or, as we might say today, the lavatory. It served the necessary purpose of waste disposal, likely relying on what was known as an āearth closet.ā Now a Grade II Listed Building, it has…
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By Hammer and Hand: A Slice of Hutton-le-Holeās History
A return trip to Hutton-le-Hole turned out to be great timing, Ā since the weather has been pretty dreich. This little village is known for its Quaker history in the 1700s and has that classic English yeoman feel with sturdy stone cottages that really seem to embrace a spirit of independence. The Ryedale Folk Museum is…
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Low Slitt Lead Mine, Weardale
This is what’s left of the Low Slitt Lead Mine, once one of the biggest mines in the North Pennines. The mine had a long history, with lead ore extraction going on as early as two centuries before it really took off in the early 1700s, thanks to the efforts of the Sir William Blackett…