Grindle Barn – Peak District

 

One of my favourite short walks in the Derwent Valley takes me from Derwent Dam, through what remains of Derwent village and up via an old packhorse route onto Derwent Edge. It is not a taxing walk, the ascent up on to the edge a mere 160m along a well marked and in places paved path. What it has that draws me back to it on a regular basis is quietness and contemplation.

Once the crowds have been left behind at the dam I can amble south down the valley along a single-track road, passing along the way a bright red phone box by the gateway to the remaining lodge to Derwent Hall, a terrace of workers cottages and an empty farmhouse. Soon on the left is the old school, no longer in use, the image of the Virgin Mary and Christ above the doorway, telling me that I am on the Roman Catholic side of the valley and therefore on Norfolk land. It is a lovely building; the porch has a beautifully tiled floor with plain black and red Minton tiles and stone benches on either side of the entrance each below a small leaded window. In the garden lays a carved lintel from the Derwent Hall, showing the date and the coat of arms of Henry Balguy a previous owner.

The road continues on through the site of the village, crossing over Millbrook where it becomes a track and soon the way south is barred by a gate. To its left is the bridleway that will take me up on to Derwent Edge, part of the old 14th century packhorse route from Derwent Village in to Sheffield. It begins its ascent by working a ribbon of stone through a meadow, the stone from the old cotton mills of Lancashire, the meadow filled in spring, with Buttercup, Scabious, Saxifrage, Mallow, Cowslip and Cranesbill and more. It is a wonderful and sadly rare sight these days to see a meadow in full bloom. The colours of white, reds, yellows and blues dotted across a huge expanse serves as a painful reminder of what we have lost in the countryside.

The path ends at a collection of stone barns, known as Grindle Barn. The barns are made of coursed and roughly dressed stone with stone roofs. They sit well in the landscape, clustered together on either side of the packhorse trail, the trail having to form an “S” bend as it weaves between the buildings. The first barn is dated 1647 above a doorway and has the initials of “LG”, probably the person who built it structure. A second barn opposite remains closed, but the third around the corner has been converted in to a shelter for walkers and bikers and perhaps horse riders. This is the barn now known as Grindle Barn.

Grindle Barn is one of my main objectives of this walk for it affords a comfortable stopping off point, particularly in inclement weather. There is the best bench in the whole of the Peak District to sit on, placed in such a way as to afford a spectacular view in any season, down the valley to Win Hill on the opposite side. The floor sits high so is not prone to flooding or gathering dirt. The walls are adorned with small tiles, each with a drawing or poem from local children in the villages down the valley. Above the entrance, just a large opening is a carved wooden board, depicting packhorse trains working their way down the trail.

I love to sit here and simply watch. Sometimes people are present or passing by and it is nice to chat about the day, the view, different walks, what flowers are present in the meadow. But it is solitude and watching that I seek most. To find the barn empty is a delight. I can take a seat, and just look. It does not matter about the weather or season. Looking out in winter and studying the old field boundaries, or the long forgotten ways up to the high grounds that snow has now brought back to life, the way it does by laying in the hidden dips long after the rest has melted. In summer the area around the barn is filled with swallows swooping up and down the trail, flashing across the barn opening. Occasionally a mouse will appear, out of the wall, once a stoat suddenly put in an appearance, disappearing as soon as it heard people approaching. I have never seen a horse, much is the pity, and it would be nice to see a small team of horses working their way down into the valley.

Grainfoot Farm – World War Two

Above is Grainfoot Farm in the Derwent Valley, Peak District National Park, as it can be seen today, alongside a watercolour by Kenneth Rowntree from 1940, shortly before it was demolished to make way for the new Ladybower Reservoir. The two Ordnance Survey maps, one from 2018 and one from 1852 show the position of the map in the landscape and perhaps more importantly today the position of the field boundaries and other landscape items.

The farm was, at one time in the possession of the Eyre family, well-known landowners in Derbyshire, still in existence today. It passed through various other hands, by marriage and purchase, before finding itself in the way of the new reservoir and scheduled for demolition.

The farm was painted by Kenneth Rowntree of the War artists Advisory Committee, not because of its imminent demise but as part of a project to record the changing face of Britain. This started in 1939, overseen by Kenneth Clark, father of the Tory MP Alan Clark, and was devised to record important buildings and artefacts of Britain incase they were destroyed by the second world war. It also coincided with a growing realisation that the landscape was changing at a rapid rate, due to urban development, industrial growth, changing agricultural practices and a shift in the social cohesion of the country after world war one. It followed similar projects carried out in America under the Federal Arts Project. It was felt that by celebrating the unique British landscape in art, morale would be boosted during the darkest hours of the war.

V&A Museum Collection

Kenneth Rowntree

War Artists Advisory Committee

National Parks a dying landscape

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It is an odd time in the nations National Parks at the moment, they seem to be confused as to their purpose, their reason for being. It comes at a time when funding is being cut from central government and the political and economic mood of certain ascendant sections of society are for profit.

The latest furore to hit social media is the Thirlmere Zip Wire. People resigning in protest from organisations, business manoeuvring to get their way in the dash for cash. In the Peak District it’s now about false tartan, in plush cafes with cuddly toys on the shelves for the grandparents to buy before they set off back to Sheffield or Derby. Meanwhile the BMC take people out on to the moors at night to educate and illuminate, raise funds for path repairs and generally act as guardians of the park.

Commentators speak about going back to the original reason for the national parks and often quote Sandford in support of one stance or another. One thing that is familiar with the Thirlmere Zip Wire argument is that lots of people speaking against it were never actually born there, but moved there because of its beauty and their own love of the place, they often quote Wordsworth in their argument to keep the Lake District in aspic.

One thing that is striking about the White Peak is how empty the villages are and how many cottages, its always the nice ones, have their doors and windows painted in those pretend national trust colours so favoured by the middle classes. The gentrification of the White Peak is gathering apace, cottages inhabited by retiring oldies who pop off every friday in their Disco’s to shop at Waitrose and come back in their 4×4 laden down with frozen goods to stock up their Wickes kitchens with the granite worktops. Apart from the chintzy names that now adorn the cottages another sign to be seen is the country holiday let. A small plastic holder with leaflets or tiny cards giving the contact details of the owner should you want to book. It usually accompanies an old milk churn, or scythe, something that can add “authenticity” to the “look”. Walk through any village now and you can count on more than one hand the number of such dwellings.

These ghost villages once provided housing and work for young people, who had families and kept things alive. Now the villages are bereft of life, part of a landscape that is now a set in a giant government funded theme park. The locals forced out by low wages and high house prices and no employment. The national park seems to be a landscape that is dying, killed by the very people who profess to be its protectors. It’s now just a photo opportunity and a means to make money.

Perhaps we need to go back to Wordsworth, often quoted in any Lake District battle to preserve what people want as the status quo.

When responding to the proposal to build a railway to Windermere to bring tourists to view the wonderful landscape and bring in much needed revenue for the local economy he said, and I paraphrase, that members of the working class would be unable to appreciate the beauty and character that the area had to offer and concludes that bringing so many travellers in would destroy the landscape.

He may just have been correct.

Tideswell Church – Peak District

Tideswell Church Door. White Peak Walks. Peak District National Park. Author Paul Besley. Publisher Cicerone Press
Tideswell Church Door. White Peak Walks. Peak District National Park

I love church doors and entrance porches. The church door of St John the Baptist, Tideswell in the Peak District is a real beauty. The door is oak, hand carved with beautiful fluting and studding.

Quam Dilecta is from the second line of Psalm 83;

Quam dilecta tabernacula tua Domine virtutum

How lovely are thy tabernacles, O Lord of host!

An indication of what lay on the other side of the door in the Cathedral of the Peak. The church is well worth a visit with some beautiful Poppy Heads showing the stages of a humans life from birth to death.

Poppy Head in Tideswell Church depicting the Baptism. Tideswell. White Peak. Peak District. White Peak Walks East. Author Paul Besley. Publisher Cicerone Press
Poppy Head in Tideswell Church. Peak District

Navio Roman Fort – Peak District

Navio Roman fort at Brough in the Peak District National Park. White Peak Walks East. Author Paul Besley. Publisher Cicerone Press
Navio Roman fort at Brough in the Peak District National Park

I always try to have something to look at on a walk and walking in the White Peak area of the Peak District National Park means there is a plethora of things to view and wonder at.

I recently did a walk for my new book White Peak Walks East, published by Cicerone Press along the boundary between the white and dark areas of the Peak. It’s a place full of ancient sites with a history going back to neolithic times. A very productive period was in Roman times, this part of the world getting towards the northern edge of their domain.

My walk took in Navio, the Roman fort at Brough. It is one of a number of forts linking Templeborough, Melandra, Castleshaw. There is not a deal left now, a few stones in a hole in the middle of a field, the stones may or may not be connected. But you can still discern the square plinth of the fort, raised above the surrounding land. It is near a stream and has views in all directions across both the Derwent and Hope valley’s. A good spot to check movements. As often is the case, it now sits alongside major roads and junctions, I always find it amazing how we still walk and live in the places designed for us many thousands of years ago.

Lead mining in the Peak District

Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland. http://maps.nls.uk/index.html

The White Peak area of the Peak District National Park is punctured with lead mines. Often the small indentations in the earth string out along the landscape as the miners followed the lead veins below.

Many have now been lost on the present day Ordnance Survey OL24 map but thankfully surveyors in the 19th century placed many features on their maps, so looking back can reveal places of interest well worth visiting.

White Peak Characteristics – Peak District

Spend enough time in an area and you quickly pick up the distinctive features that make up a places character.

The photo above has many features that characterise the White Peak area of the Peak District National Park. The limestone, and limestone walls. The narrow lanes leading to fields, walled on each side by limestone. The dewpond now covered in grass through lack of use, like many more in the White Peak. The pasture with its green grass, often Italian grass is used for its high sugar content and suitability for silage. The barn, squarish in structure, limestone walls with dressed corners and a stone roof. The ancient trees that denote the line of boundaries prior to walling under the enclosure acts.

All that is missing from this photo is the tiny hamlet or small village with Norman church and the odd sheep staring at the camera.