A life on the road

Tramps" — illustration for "The Uncommercial Traveller" by Sol Eytinge, Jr.

Tramps on the roadside in Victorian times

In contrast with the rich and powerful, whose historical journeys were often recorded, we know very little about the thousands of people in the past who made a living from being on the move. Some may have been semi-criminals, but the great majority supported themselves by providing a service; moving goods to where they were wanted. Yet the stigma attached to itinerant workers persisted; they were often seen as a threat to the settled householder or shopkeeper. For some, such as the drovers, it could be a profitable business, while others had no choice but to beg from village to village, relying on the kindness of strangers.

Well into the twentieth century tramps were a familiar sight on our roads, with George Orwell providing an unusual glimpse of their lives in his Down and Out in Paris and London. Written in the 1930s, he describes the grim conditions in the ‘Spike’, where workhouse-style accommodation was provided by the local authorities. Today, of course, the volume of traffic on the roads makes old-style tramping impractical, so that the destitute sleep rough in cities, where there is more food, money and shelter.

Gypsies and Caravan (Photos Prints Framed Posters Puzzles Cards Gifts  Canvas...) #20031226
A gypsy family in the 1930s

Gypsies, travellers or Roma are one marginal group that has attracted much interest and been heavily romanticised by writers such as George Borrow, while surviving into modern times. But others have been made redundant by the increase in personal mobility – we forget how isolated a Derbyshire village would have been up to the 1950s. Drovers were one of the most respected trades, responsible for the well-being of herds of valuable animals and their safe delivery to market. They would avoid turnpikes and use their own routes, with an overnight halt in an inn with grazing attached. Today it is difficult to trace droving roads, though place names such as Bullbridge may provide clues.

Probable west-east drove road near Minninglow

Pedlars (or travellers or hawkers) supplied the needs of isolated farms and cottages, in particular catering for women who could rarely visit a market town yet needed lightweight items such as sewing materials. They carried their goods in a pack, today commemorated in the name of the Hathersage pub, the Scotsman’s Pack. They must have been welcome visitors, but it is now hard to imagine how difficult their lives would have been, outdoors in all weathers and with the burden of the pack. Another significant group were the badgers or higglers, who bought goods such as eggs and butter from farmers and resold them at market. In theory they needed a licence to operate, so that for example in 1748 179 licences were issued at the Derbyshire Quarter Sessions, although many people may have operated unlicensed. As few, if any of these thousands of itinerant workers left a written record, tracing their lives is frustratingly difficult, but clearly their work was vital for the rural economy of the pre-motor age.

Stagecoach

William Hogarth | The Stage Coach, or Country Inn Yard | The Metropolitan  Museum of Art
Loading the stagecoach – Hogarth

The romantic image of the stagecoach, as seen on hundreds of Christmas cards, portrays the coach’s arrival at a snowy inn, horns being blown to warn the landlord to make ready for the hungry passengers. But the real experience must have been less glamorous: unheated and crowded. Travel by stagecoach became quicker and somewhat more comfortable during the later eighteenth century, thanks to better turnpike roads and steel springs. However, it was always expensive and never popular, many men and some women preferring to ride their own (or hired) horses. Hogarth’s print satirises the discomforts of being squeezed into a small compartment for a long day’s journey, while those travelling ‘outside’ (at cheaper rates) were always in danger of falling off. But by the early nineteenth century the trip from Derby to London could be done in one long day, saving the expense of hotels enroute.

Peacock Hotel, Four Lane Ends, Oakerthorpe, near Alfreton, c 1950?s
The Peacock, Oakerthorpe in the 1950s

Stagecoaches were so-called as they had to travel in stages, changing horses every 10-12 miles. Pulling such a heavy load (at least half a dozen passengers, the coachman and the coach) horses needed to be rested after that distance. Consequently coaching inns were built in most towns served by stagecoach routes, but also at strategic points along the roads. They can often be identified by an arch to allow the coach to enter the yard behind, as at the Red Lion in Wirksworth. The Peacock at Oakerthorpe (now called Pestos at the Peacock) was sited at the junction of two important turnpikes: Nottingham – Newhaven and Derby – Chesterfield. The name ‘Peacock’ suggests a connection with the Duke of Rutland, whose family symbol this is. Another coaching inn financed by a great Derbyshire landowner was the Newhaven Hotel, built by the Duke of Devonshire at the junction of the Nottingham turnpike with the Derby – Buxton route.

The Red Lion, Wirksworth

The growth of travel by stagecoach led to the development of a huge ‘horse economy’, requiring not only coachmen but ostlers, farriers, chambermaids, cooks and other indoor staff. The larger inns would have stabled at least 100 horses. This all went into decline after 1840, as the railways spread over the country and provided much cheaper and more comfortable travel, although in the more remote parts of Derbyshire stage coaches continued in use to the 1880s.

The secrets of Shuckstone

The cross base, with dandelions, looking east

Starting from Whatstandwell Bridge, if you follow the track from the hamlet of Robin Hood up through the quarry and wood to Wakebridge, and then on past Wakebridge Farm up to the top of the hill, the route finally levels off and you come to Shuckstone Fields, behind Holly Grange Farm and above Lea. This large field contains the intersection of five footpaths, and Shuckstone Cross must have marked this point. Today only the base remains, and the markings on this are illegible, but according to local historian George Wrigglesworth the four sides were marked C (for Crich) A (possibly Ashover) M (Mansfield or Matlock) and W (Wirksworth). In the late eighteenth century a pot containing Roman coins was dug up here, presumably buried by someone wanting a clear marker for their savings. Not far away is a ‘Holy Well’ of three compartments, which could have offered refreshment for travellers.

The Holy Well

The term ‘cross’ can be misleading: the crosses found in country churchyards, as at Eyam, had a cross shape and were often preaching crosses, while a cross as at Shuckstone was simply a stone shaft held in a square base which acted as a waymark or signpost. This marker would have been clearly visible at this high point (nearly 900 feet), which was moorland until a couple of hundred years ago: the 1791 map shows that the area was the southern tip of East Moor, an expanse of rough pasture which stretched from here north towards Chatsworth and then Sheffield.

The Cross may have also been a boundary marker, since the same map (Burdett’s) also shows that the track up from the Derwent runs along the old wapentake boundary, with the wapentakes of Wirksworth to the west and Morleyston to the east. According to Kenneth Cameron, (The Place-names of Derbyshire Part 2) the name ‘Shuckstone’ is fairly recent, and older records, going back to the Domesday Book, refer to this spot as ‘Shuckthorn’ or similar, meaning the Devil’s thorn tree. This is certainly a location well worth visiting, but probably not on a dark night.

A choice of paths