The village pump

We haven't had an 'old' and 'new' comparison lately - and I know how much you like those!  Here is a photo, dated about 1890, of the Top Pump in the village of Heptonstall, and one of the same scene today.  Before piped water was introduced, every town and village in Britain had wells and pumps. Heptonstall had four public pumps and this one remains, reasonably well-preserved.  I don't think it still works though.

In times of drought, the pumps were locked and only opened for short time in the morning and evening.  The villagers used to line up their empty cans, marked with their initials, until the pump was opened again.  Diane, a few days ago, commented that she thought maybe I'd like to have lived in Victorian times - but, though I find history interesting, I'm very glad I don't have to queue up for and carry water or suffer the other harsh privations of those times.  Sometimes it's hard to believe how relatively recently daily life was so different - or to remember that, for many people in the world, things are still like that.

Heptonstall street

This photo gives you a good idea of what Heptonstall village as a whole looks like - really not much changed (at least on the surface) from what it was 200 years ago.  It's now a conservation area so in many ways it is 'frozen in time'.  The streets' stone setts have been reinstated, and the old handloom weavers' cottages like those on the left (dating to around 1800) still stand, with their large upper windows, designed to give maximum light for the weavers, who sometimes worked 12 hour days to catch the light.  The last handloom weaver of Heptonstall (and one of the last remaining in the Pennines), John Sutcliffe, died in 1902.

Apart from the fact that it always seems to be dull weather when I visit, the village has a rather dark, forbidding look, largely due to the soot-blackened buildings that, unlike many in Yorkshire, have never been cleaned up.

The village lock-up

I don't suppose the 'king' of the Cragg Vale coiners was ever incarcerated here...but this is Heptonstall's village lock-up or dungeon: a small, damp, windowless cell in the basement of one of the inns.  In the olden days when travel and communication were more difficult the local constable would make use of these small local dungeons to lock up drunks and petty criminals.  Troublemakers were often then put in the village stocks - a wooden structure with holes to clamp their feet.  The ridicule of the community, and being pelted with rotten fruit and vegetables, seemed to be the punishment for many a small misdemeanour.  (I did think it might be a more fitting retribution for some of the rioters and looters we saw recently in this country, rather than the prison sentences they were given.)

Just to the left of my photo is a small well, one of the original sources of water for the village. Contamination of the water supply was a huge problem, because the bedrock is too close to the surface here and the water did not get adequately filtered.  In 1843 there was a major outbreak of disease in Heptonstall, caused by the polluted water.

Coiners

My photo today is of the ruined - and I think rather macabre and mysterious - church of St Thomas à Becket in Heptonstall.  It was left to fall into disrepair after being damaged in a storm in 1847.  The congregation decided it was better to build a new church, which stands over to the left of the old one, giving this little Yorkshire village the peculiarity of having two churches in one churchyard. Only a handful of other places share that distinction, one being Westminster Abbey in London.

I am showing you this today because it continues yesterday's history lesson about 'clipped money'.  There are reputedly over 100,000 bodies interred in the church's graveyard and one of them is that of David Hartley, "king" of the Cragg Vale coiners. He was hanged in 1770 for his part in a large-scale conspiracy to clip the edges of gold coins, melt the scraps and recast the metal to produce counterfeit money.  It was big business in this area, and the government was determined to catch the offenders, whose exploits were seriously harming Britain's currency. A Customs and Excise Inspector, William Deighton, who got on to their trail, was murdered by the gang in the hope that would stop the inquiries.  Suspected informers were brutally tortured by gang members. But David Hartley was convicted and hanged at Tyburn near York and many of the others were eventually caught too.

Flower power and a smile

Knaresborough's residents seem to take pride in making their homes look pretty. There are beautiful floral displays evident throughout the town, which all adds to the town's charm and character.  Here we have an adundance of pink petunias, flowing over the railings outside a town house beside the main railway station.  If you look back at Sunday's photo you can see the back of this house, one of the tall cream-coloured houses between the railway bridge and the church.

This house also hosted two colourful 'trompe l'oeil' paintings in its 'blind windows'.  You can see the house has been taken over by warring Cavaliers and Roundheads, left behind after the English Civil War.  These two were certainly raising smiles from the many passers-by.

The reason for 'blind windows', as I said yesterday, possibly stems from an unpopular tax on windows which was imposed in 1696 - by the wonderfully named 'Act of Making Good the Deficiency of the Clipped Money'.  It was prior to the introduction of income tax, and was an attempt to tax people according to their wealth (if you had a big house with more windows you paid more) without invading the privacy of people's actual income.  Some say that this is where we get the phrase 'daylight robbery' from.

I don't know what 'the clipped money' was, but on Sunday I heard about some local stories of a gang of 'coiners' who shaved gold off the edges of coins (in those days coins were made of real gold) to melt down and make counterfeit coins. Over time the practice effectively devalued the currency.  So maybe it has to do with that - 'clipping' the edges of coins.

Trompe l'oeil

Knaresborough, when I visited, had just had an Arts Festival.  Dotted all around the town were these rather marvellous trompe l'oeil features, a project that originated as part of the Festival a few years ago but which has been futher developed by Renaissance Knaresborough. (Click on each to really appreciate them).

 A secret tunnel at the railway station..

 Doors and windows..                     

                                            Even Mother Shipton herself!                                               

 

Apparently the town is well suited to this, as many of the Georgian buildings have 'blind windows' - bricked up windows.  There are various theories about these - maybe they were a way of avoiding window tax, or simply used to keep the symmetry of the buildings without the expense of glass.

Picture postcard

To really appreciate Knaresborough's picturesque charm, you need to get up high on to the castle rock, from where you can enjoy wonderful views along the river.  This is the 'classic' photo, seen on a million postcards, calendars and jigsaws.  Much of the town centre - its winding shopping streets and the market place - is up at castle level, so you don't really notice the climb. The ruined castle area is interesting too, with a small museum and lovely gardens to explore.  One of the gardens has a children's paddling pool, which was full of happily squealing children on the day I visited. (Gran-in-waiting is making a mental note of these facilities now!)

Messing about on the river

You used to be able to hire rowing boats on rivers and lakes all over the place (even in Saltaire in the good old days) but it seems to be a pastime that is rapidly dying out.  It's alive and well in Knaresborough though, as you'll have seen from my previous photos.  On the beautiful summer's day when I visited, there were lots of families out on the river, enjoying spectacular views of the Victorian viaduct towering above them.  There are at least three different operators offering boats for hire and for a modest sum you can spend a pleasant hour gently cruising up and down.  Everyone gets to be happy... mum gets a well-earned rest, the kids like the novelty and enjoy trailing their hands in the water - and dad gets to show off his muscles!  And for couples, it can be a really romantic interlude (once you've stopped laughing at your partner's inexpertise with the oars, that is!)

Medieval treasures

I love this view, which shows Knaresborough's ancient charm to perfection.  The wonderful chequerboard house in the middle is known as the Old Manor House.  It dates back to 1208 when it was built as a hunting lodge for King John, around an oak tree which still stands in the centre of the house.  It was recently restored and if you're interested in old houses, there is a really fascinating article here.  It's believed that after Cromwell's troops defeated the Royalists at Marston Moor, in the First English Civil War, the treaty of capitulation was signed by King Charles here in this house, in Cromwell's presence.  It has a 400 year old mulberry tree in the garden which still bears fruit.  It remains a private residence.

Behind the black and white house you can see a thatched house dating back to the 1500s, Thatched Manor Cottage.  Its thatch was destroyed by fire a few years ago and has had to be renewed. I found an interesting picture of it being rethatched here.  It sits at the bottom of the wonderfully named Water Bag Bank - so called because ponies used to haul bags of water up the steep hill from the river into the town.

The church at the top is St John's Parish Church.

Victorian progress

The railway finally did reach Knaresborough in 1851, when this impressive railway viaduct was completed across the steep valley of the river.  An earlier bridge had collapsed three years before, just as it was almost finished.  (That must have been annoying!)  Victorian times, in Knaresborough as elsewhere, saw rapid progress in improving the town and living conditions for its inhabitants. Chapels and schools were built, gas street lighting established and a sewerage system installed.  But much of its earlier history is still very evident in its buildings, lanes, street names and the now ruined castle that towers over the town.

Living by the river, Knaresborough style

Walking into Knaresborough through the Mother Shipton Estate you glimpse some lovely houses along the riverside.  These apartments have been converted from an old mill building, Castle Mill, that nestles at the foot of the castle rock. Originally a papermill, it was replaced in 1791 by a cotton mill that was converted in 1811 to spinning flax to make fine linen.  It had the honour of supplying linen 'by royal appointment' to Queen Victoria's household and in 1851 was awarded the Prince Albert Medal for producing a handwoven seamless shirt. (See the things you learn by reading this blog!)

But industrial development was rather hampered by Knaresborough's relative isolation, being a difficult place to connect by canal or rail to the major centres of population like Leeds.  In many ways that has been our gain, as it is nowadays a truly delightful and picturesque town, retaining much of its ancient charm.  In fact, I don't know why I haven't visited much more often. It's only about 20 miles from Saltaire.  I had a lovely day-out there.

Petrified

Beside Mother Shipton's Cave is Knaresborough's famous Dropping Well, 'England's oldest visitor attraction', which has been drawing curious crowds since 1630.  A fine example of what is known as a petrifying well, its ability to turn objects into stone was at one time thought to be the result of magic or witchcraft.  Now we know that it is a geological phenomenon.  Water seeps from an underground lake through limestone rock along aquifers, picking up mineral deposits along the way.  It rises to the surface in a spring which cascades down the rock face, leaving behind the mineral deposits, which form new layers of stone.  (It's the same process that produces stalagmites and stalactites in underground caves, but it is rarer that this happens above ground). Anything left in the water's path becomes coated with stone, and so for hundreds of years people have hung objects under the flow.  Teddy bears, hats and shoes can be seen and many celebrities have donated items to be 'petrified' - some can be viewed in the museum nearby.  Apparently it takes 3-5 months for a small teddy bear to turn to stone.  Nowadays the rock face is scrubbed regularly to try and prevent the mineral deposits becoming too heavy and breaking the rock.

Mother Shipton

Mother Shipton (born Ursula Southeil) was England's most famous soothsayer and prophetess. She lived some 500 years ago during the reigns of King Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I.  She was said to have been born in a cave by the River Nidd in Knaresborough, North Yorkshire, during a violent thunderstorm.  Reputed to be very ugly (the archetypal hag or crone) she nevertheless married Toby Shipton, a carpenter.  The first book of her prophecies did not appear until 80 years after her death, and most of what is written is believed to have been invented after she died. Neverthless, the legends about her probably have some basis in truth.  She is said to have prophesised the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 and Samuel Pepys's Diary records that she forewarned of the Great Fire of London (1666).

The cave and well associated with her are now preserved within an area of parkland, which was landscaped in the 18th century.  There is an attractive walk by the riverside, through an avenue of ancient beech trees.

Rag rug

"Flower Garden" - a prodded rug by Isobel Waterhouse

There was a time when no working-class home in this part of the country would be complete without a rag rug or two. We had a big one on the tiled floor of our kitchen when I was a child and I used to love its colours and patterns - and the way it kept my little bare feet off the cold floor!  It seems this traditional craft is having something of a resurgence, now that recycling is fashionable and people are enjoying crafts as a hobby.  I came across a lovely little exhibition recently in the Bracken Hall Countryside Centre, up on Shipley Glen, showing a variety of rag rugs and panels made by members of the Airedale Ruggers.  The group came into being 5 years ago and they meet monthly at Cliffe Castle Museum in Keighley.  Their aim is to promote, encourage and develop rag rug making as an art form and to ensure this traditional craft doesn't become extinct.  They are currently making rag rugs for the Ladies Waiting Room at Oakworth Station on the Keighley & Worth Valley Railway (see my other blog).

There are two different ways to make a rag rug - prodding and hooking.  With both methods, strips of fabric are pushed and looped from the back through a close woven hessian or sackcloth backing. They are made from remnants and recycled materials - old T shirts and sweatshirts, woollen fabrics and tweeds.  The skill is not so much in the loop-making itself but in blending colours and fabrics to make not simply a rug but a unique piece of folk art.  As with quilting, family memories in the shape of significant pieces of fabric can be woven into the piece.

Up, up and away

Otley Chevin's ridge is one of the highest points in the area and on a clear day you can see for miles.  It is said that you can see York Minster (cathedral) from here.  This view is looking west towards the city of Leeds, though it was a bit too hazy in the far distance to see clearly.  You can, though, make out the runway of Leeds Bradford Airport and a row of white planes lined up to the left of it.  The airport was at one time quite a minor affair but in recent years it has expanded considerably, serving the cities of Leeds and Bradford and the surrounding area.  You can now fly direct from here to most European countries, to the USA (New York) and to Pakistan, as well as to many other cities within the UK (though, strangely, not to London).  Other international destinations require a connecting flight from Amsterdam or Brussels.  Being so high up, the airport suffers quite badly from fog in the winter (as I know from experience, having been diverted to Manchester once when returning from Tenerife!)

Otley Chevin

Another view taken from Otley Chevin, looking east up the Wharfe valley towards Ilkley.

I am noticing that my new Nikon seems to capture much better skies than my smaller cameras, with less tendency to burnout. And the wider angle lens continues to excite me - at this rate I shall be saving up for a proper wide-angle to supplement the 18-55 mm kit lens I have now.  Sigh... it doesn't take long to start feeling lens envy... all those possibilities! Wide-angle, fish-eye, macro....  Must get a lens hood though, as it seems prone to flare, more so than the compacts.

Dunnies

I guess it's the same the world over: wherever there are bikers (or cyclists) there are bikers' cafés.  Dunnies (Wharfe View Café) is one such, pleasantly situated just by the river bridge in Otley.  It's been there as long as I can remember and there are always bikers there, either just starting a ride, having a pit-stop in the middle of one or congregating at the end of a day out.  It's what's known as a 'greasy spoon' and 'full English breakfast' (eggs, bacon, fried bread, beans etc) served all day, bacon or chip butties and strong tea are the mainstays of the menu.  Let's hope such places never die out, as they do add colour and life to the local scene.

The Black Bull

Otley is a contender for the title of 'English town with the most pubs per head of population'!  At one time I believe it had 17 pubs.  There are still a great many, perhaps because historically the town had several markets including two cattle markets, and was also on a major coaching route.  Many of the pubs still have archways where coaches and horses would have entered to get to the stables at the back.

The Black Bull is believed to be the oldest of them all and alterations revealed a 16th century fireplace and door.  It is said that in 1644, on the eve of the battle of Marston Moor, a decisive battle in the First English Civil War, Cromwell's Parliamentarian troops (the 'Roundheads') camped outside the town and drank this pub dry.  The next day they comprehensively routed the Royalist troops in one of the biggest battles of the war.  Sadly they wouldn't have enjoyed a pint of the excellent Timothy Taylor's 'Landlord' ale, as the brewery was not founded until 1858.  You could though!

Famous sons

Otley is famous as the birthplace in 1718 of Thomas Chippendale, the cabinet-maker and furniture designer whose Georgian designs are still popular.   His statue (well camouflaged!) stands next to the former Prince Henry's Grammar School, which he attended.  It's an attractive building, dating back to 1614 but extensively altered in 1790 in the Elizabethan style.  It is no longer a school. It was used as a courthouse and I think is now offices.

Otley was also the birthplace of Mike Tindall, the English rugby player who recently married Zara Phillips, daughter of the Princess Royal and granddaughter of the Queen - our second royal wedding of the year.  Reputedly the Queen asked him if he was going to get his (famously bent) nose straightened out before the wedding - but he said no! ("Off with his head!" she was then heard to mutter.... er, no, I'm only joking.)

Otley

 

Some of you may recall taking a trip with me to Ilkley in Wharfedale last year.  A few miles down the River Wharfe, the next small town is Otley.  The two couldn't be more different.  Ilkley is a gracious spa town, well-to-do and conscious of it, with wide boulevards and select shops.  Otley has a much more down-to-earth feel about it.  Its origins go back to Saxon times, when the Archbishops of York were the lords of the manor and had a palace here.  In the 13th century they laid out 'burgage plots' (houses on narrow plots of land) to attract merchants and traders. The town was granted a market in 1222 and grew as an agricultural centre.  There was a cottage woollen industry and then in the 19th century cotton and woollen mills grew up along the banks of the river.  Otley also became a centre for the printing industry.

It remains a solid little market town but it is not as popular with tourists and visitors as Ilkley.  Rather a pity in some ways, as it is full of history, but it doesn't somehow seem to make the most of its attractions.  I took this picture from the steep bank known as The Chevin, that overlooks the town.  Now preserved as an area of outstanding natural beauty, it was the route of a Roman road that connected Ilkley with York.