What’s in a name?

Sign near Holbrook

There are several ‘portways’ in England, such as the route over the Long Mynd in Shropshire, but the Derbyshire Portway seems to be the longest and the best-researched. The route in Derbyshire was first suggested by Cockerton, an historian from Bakewell in the 1930s, who based his idea of a long-distance route on a string of ‘port’ place names such as Alport and Alport Height, which can be linked together in a roughly north-south alignment by existing tracks and paths. These place names are reinforced by references to a ‘Portwaye’ in some medieval documents and two Portway lead mines. Cockerton discussed the origin of the name ‘Portway’ at length, without coming to a definite conclusion. But it seems clear that the word is Anglo-Saxon, and was applied by them to pre-existing, non-Roman routes. Some have suggested an origin linked to ‘porter’, that is someone who carries, but then all roads are for carrying goods. The common Anglo-Saxon word for road was ‘way’, except for the old Roman roads which were ‘streets’. So a ‘portway’ was something special.

The line of the Portway running south from Cratcliffe Rocks, turnpike road to left

A ‘port’ suggests a place of safety and shelter, so I think a portway was a a long-distance route which had ‘ports’ for travellers at intervals of roughly ten miles. These might have been similar to the caravanserai found in the Middle East – defensive sites where wayfarers could sleep, cook and graze their animals overnight. In Derbyshire these are likely to have been on high ground for defence, and a string of probable sites can be identified, from north to south: Mam Tor, Fin Cop, Cratcliff Rocks, Harborough Rocks, Alport Height, Arbour Hill at Dale and Arbour Hill in Wollaton Park. It is noteworthy that three of these have a similar ‘arbour’ component, and a harbour of course is similar to a port.

Harborough Rocks, between Wirksworth and Brassington

Several of these sites, including Mam Tor, Fin Cop and Harborough, have been excavated and evidence of occupation, such as pottery, has been found. But permanent settlement in such high and waterless places seems unlikely, while the designation ‘hill fort’ is too vague. Far more likely that they served to protect tired travellers, and thus answered a question too rarely asked by pre-historians – how did merchants, drovers, priests, soldiers and pilgrims make lengthy journeys before the arrival of inns?

Romantic Buxton?

Arnold Bennett’s masterpiece, The Old Wives’ Tale, published in 1908, is set in the mid-nineteenth century, and tells the contrasting stories of two sisters, Sophia and Constance. The latter spends her life running the family drapers’ shop in Stoke on Trent, while her sister has a more adventurous life in Paris. When Constance marries, Buxton is chosen for their honeymoon, a relatively short ride on the then North Staffordshire Railway:

“They had a way of saying: ‘Yes, we always go to Buxton. We went there for our honeymoon, you know.” They had become confirmed Buxtonites, with views concerning St Anne’s Terrace, the Broad Walk and Peel’s Cavern. They could not dream of deserting their Buxton. It was the sole possible resort. Was it not the highest town in England? Well, then!

The man himself

Bennett, who was a francophile and had lived in France since 1903, was clearly being satirical at the expense of these provincial folk:

“They always stayed at the same lodgings, and grew to be special favourites of the landlady, who whispered of them to all her other guests as having come to her house for their honeymoon, and as never missing a year, and as being most respectable, superior people in quite a large way of business. Each year they walked out of Buxton station behind their luggage on a truck, full of joy and pride because they knew all the landmarks, and the lie of all the streets, and which were the best shops.”

Park views

However, any holiday would be a luxury for working people in the 1870s, and ten days in Buxton would demonstrate that Mr and Mrs Povey were prosperous folk. The spa waters of the town have attracted visitors since Roman times (and probably earlier), though tourists in the eighteenth century frequently complained of the quality of accommodation. It was not until the Dukes of Devonshire made serious investments, such as building The Crescent, and the arrival of the railway in 1863, that large number of visitors began arriving. Today a rejuvenated town still attracts holidaymakers, although unfortunately the excellent Museum and Art Gallery has been closed indefinitely due to the discovery of dry rot.

Peripatetic post people!

Old-model Postie

In the age of electronic messaging it is easy to forget the revolution in communication caused by the introduction of the penny post in 1840. This novel system of using stamps to pre-pay letters to anywhere in the country allowed working people, for the first time, to keep in touch with friends and relations, at a reasonable price. There was a huge increase in mail, and consequently post offices were opened in rural areas to organise the collection and delivery of letters. At this time country districts were more densely populated than today, and letters had to be delivered to widely scattered cottages and farms. Consequently, rural postmen (and women) were recruited, with routes of up to 15 miles, to be walked in all weathers for the delivery and collection of mail.

Hearts a’ fluttering…

When the new system was introduced the postmen tried to reduce their ‘walks’ by finding short cuts between the scattered houses, thereby opening up new paths in places. However, today there is little record of their remarkable work, although some posties were still delivering mail on foot up to the 1970s, despite the general introduction of bikes and later, vans. Derbyshire must have had dozens of such forgotten postmen, while in Cumbria Alan Cleaver has been collecting memories of their lives, as recently featured on BBC Radio 4 in ‘Open Country’.

A cheery wave

It’s hard to imagine anyone opting for a job today that involved a daily walk of 15 miles. Not only were letters delivered and collected daily, but the arrival of the post broke the intense isolation of much country life 150 years ago – there were cases of people sending letters to themselves, in order to have the postman call! Postmen were known to read letters out for folk who were illiterate, as well as bringing news from neighbours. Deliveries were even made on Christmas Day, as DH Lawrence recorded when living at Middleton by Wirksworth in 1918. Another notable change is the soaring cost of a stamp – compared with the Penny Black at one old penny, a modern second class stamp costs 85 new pence – 204 times more expensive!

See: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-cumbria-64452468

Millstoned

If you go down to the woods today …

The stone I found in my local woods recently is typical of the thousand-odd millstones scattered around the Peak District – and are used as a symbol for the National Park. Clearly fashioned from the gritstone of the ‘edge’ behind me, this example raises some intriguing questions: who made it? why was it abandoned? how was it transported?

On Stanage Edge

Both wind and water mills used pairs of millstones to grind grain between them; the stones were about 1.8 metres wide and each weighed nearly 2.5 tons. Millstone grit from North Derbyshire was considered the best material for these, and in the late seventeenth century a pair would cost about nine or ten pounds, reflecting the skill and effort required to make them. Most production seems to have been small-scale; perhaps providing winter work for farmers, and may have been concentrated in the Hathersage area and along the ‘edges’, but there is also documentary evidence of manufacture at Alderwasley, Crich and Holloway. However, in the eighteenth century, with rising standards of living, demand for white flour increased and milling this needed finer chert millstones. Quite suddenly, the traditional stones were unwanted, and this may account for the numbers that were abandoned – although some may have cracked or had other defects.

Keep them rolling …

One minor mystery is how such heavy, valuable objects were transported, given that they were sold all over England and exported to the Continent. The sites of the quarries were often remote from the nearest road, so they may have been rolled in pairs, fitted with a wooden axle, until they could be craned onto a cart. In 1676 a miller at North Elmshall paid seven shillings and sixpence for carrying his new stones 22 miles. At Baslow there were complaints about loads of millstones weakening the bridge over the Derwent, and fines for offenders, which suggests fairly heavy traffic. As with lead, Bawtry was the main inland port for shipping millstones, both for export and to other English regions. But perhaps the biggest mystery is how the semi-amateur masons were able to produce such precisely cut stones with the crudest of tools.

Come back, Blind Jack

John Metcalfe relaxing in Knaresborough

John Metcalf, known as ‘Jack’, was a pioneer road builder in Yorkshire and Derbyshire, despite being blind from the age of six. His remarkable career began in 1717, when he was born to a poor family in Knaresborough. He was given fiddle lessons as a source of future financial support, and at age 15 became fiddler at the Queen’s Head in Harrogate. Horse trading, swimming and diving were other occupations, while his detailed local knowledge gave him employment as a guide. Among other achievements he ran a carrier business, using a stagecoach which he drove himself.

Jack on a rare sunny day in Yorkshire

His career as a road builder began in 1765 when he tendered to build a section of turnpike road between Harrogate and Boroughbridge. Presumably his work as a carrier had given him insight into the problems of road maintenance, and his road engineering was based on the need for effective drainage, via a convex surface, into adequate culverts at the road side. He was also the first to find a way of laying a route through bogs, using floating rafts of ling and gorse as foundations. But his success must have also been down to effective calculation of costs when bidding for contracts, plus his man-management skills, such as being on site at 6 a.m. In total he was responsible for 180 miles of new or improved roads, mainly in Yorkshire but also in north Derbyshire, especially the roads around Buxton.

A well-stocked pub

Today Jack is remembered in his home town by a seated statue (top) outside the pub that bears his name. His road-building contemporaries, Thomas Telford and John MacAdam, are better-known, but his triumph over disability is quite remarkable. In old age he lived with one of his daughters, and at the age of 77 walked to York and told his life story to a publisher, who produced this volume (below).

Given the current state of Derbyshire roads, we might wish for Jack to get off his bench and come back to show us how to fill in the potholes …

Rambling around Ryknild

Ryknild Street was the only long-distance Roman road that crossed Derbyshire, coming from Lichfield to the camp at Little Chester and then on to Chesterfield. Part of its route is still used today, notably the A61 from Higham through Stretton and Clay Cross to Chesterfield. There is little trace of the first part, through Breadsall and up to Brackley Gate, but then the route is picked up by Golden Valley and runs very straight to Smithy Houses and Street Lane. This last name, of course, and the village of Stretton, are reminders that Roman roads were always ‘streets’. Ryknild Street is the name given on the OS map, but there are many variations of the spelling, and this name was almost certainly not used by the Romans. The map above, of the area around Pentrich, is one place where public footpaths give access to the line of the road.

There’s a road here somewhere

The footpath due west from Pentrich Church crosses the line of the old road at the top of a rise, and the raised platform for the road (known as an ‘agar’) can be just made out in the grass. Following this line north you come to another section of path which runs alongside a hedge – this is one of the few places Ryknild Street can actually be followed (see lower photo). On the other side of Riley Lane there is no trace of the road as it runs through ploughed fields east of Coneygrey Farm. However, just west of the road’s course, on Castle Hill, is what the OS map calls a ‘Roman Fortlet’.

The view is worth the climb

Roughly half-way between Little Chester and Chesterfield, this fort might have offered some shelter to road users but was unlikely to be manned regularly. It can be reached by climbing the quite steep bank from the Oakerthorpe road, but the view from the top is brilliant, and shows that the road builders were keeping to high ground, well away from the Amber floodplain to the west. Possibly they were just upgrading an older route which followed the ridge?

All roads lead to ….

One obvious question is why such well-built roads as the Romans constructed were allowed to go out of use? Of course, in places they were maintained and improved, such as the modern A38 from Lichfield to Derby but other areas such as this may have preferred older routes, or have been unable to organise maintenance, for instance when trees were blown down or drains and culverts became blocked.

For a detailed report on the fortlet see:

Leashaw: A road to nowhere?

Follow diversions

Road building in Derbyshire can be fraught, especially on steep-sided valleys. At times roads become too expensive to maintain, as happened with the road below Mam Tor, which was abandoned in the 1970s after frequent landslips due to the unstable geology. Following the exceptionally wet autumn and winter of 2023-4 several routes are currently closed, such as Beeley Lane. The village of Holloway has been badly affected; first the Cromford to Lea Bridge road was closed for over a year after flooding from the River Derwent in 2019, and then shortly after that was re-opened the Holloway to Crich road was closed due to a landslip undermining the pavement. This has now been blocked for over a year, and the County Council is not planning to start repair work until mid-2025.

This stretch of road was originally part of the Cromford Bridge and Langley Mill turnpike of 1766, built before the A6 provided a smoother, lower route. The house on the left, above, was one of the toll collectors’ cottages. At that time this would have been a narrow lane with just enough width for two carts or carriages to squeeze past. A report in the Derby Mercury in 1897 of a public meeting in Crich shows that the problems with this road are longstanding:

Mr Shaw brought forward an important matter, that of repairing the turnpike road leading from Bull Bridge to Holloway, stating that he thought, with many others, that the road ought to be taken over by the Derbyshire County Council. It was, however, clearly proved by Mr Dawes and other gentlemen that the County Council had been repeatedly requested to take over this road, but would not do so, their excuse being that there was insufficient through traffic. 

Walkers and cyclists only

It appears that the road was widened, surfaced and the pavement built in the 1930s, by which time the DCC had been obliged to take over maintenance. ‘Shaw’ in place names can mean a wood on a steep bank, and this accurately describes the route on both sides of Wakebridge, and explains why it is so difficult to maintain.

The good old daysthe Cliff pub

The situation is not just inconvenient for Crich and Holloway people. Several businesses are struggling with the lack of passing trade: Maycock’s Butchers and the Chase Cafe at the Holloway end, and the Cliff pub (above) at the edge of Crich. It seems that over 250 years after the turnpike was opened, a much wealthier society is unable to keep it open.

Down Ashover way

Tomb of Thomas and Edith Babington in Ashover church

These unusually colorful figures on the Babington tomb at Ashover are a reminder of a long-distance packhorse route that can be traced as far as Wirksworth to the west. Ashover parish used to be much larger, and included Holloway, Lea and Dethick, the home of the Babingtons. St John’s church at Dethick was built as a private chapel for the manor, but Ashover had to be used for burials. Most of the route can be comfortably walked today; leaving Ashover by the track beside the Old Poet’s Corner pub which drops to a bridge over the Amber, and then provides a steep climb up a remarkably complete stone causeway (below).

Onwards and upwards

‘Causeys’ like this are found all over Derbyshire and are about two feet wide, thus providing a solid surface for horses’ feet at minimal expense. The track continues to climb towards Ravensnest and then meets Holestone Gate Road at the top. From there it’s road walking to the B6014 and along Lickpenny Lane to the Matlock-Alfreton road. At this point a guidestoop can be seen on the verge, dated 1710, marked A+P for Ashover Parish. Wirksworth is one of the directions shown, via Dethick Lane (NB the stoop has been moved from its original position, but not significantly). Dethick Lane is partly a holloway, Cross Lane marks the site of an old cross (only the base remains), and beyond the church the path leads down to a crossing of the Lea Brook on stepping stones, then uphill to cross Hearthstone Lane and down to Cromford Station and bridge.

Looking down the steps at Eastwood Grange

Where did the route go to the east from Ashover? One likely possibility is the footpath which starts beside the Black Swan and runs up through the grounds of Eastwood Grange, today a school but which must have been built in Victorian times as a substantial private villa. The route (even if no longer used by packhorses) was clearly significant enough to be given a well-engineered stone-lined route through the gardens of the Grange, as can be seen above. Beyond this the path continues steeply up to the summit of Farhill, a popular viewpoint at 299 metres, from where Hardwick Hall, Chesterfield and Sheffield can be seen.

Reading the stone

The stone in the north wall of St Mary’s, Wirksworth

The Wirksworth Stone must be one of the most remarkable examples of sculpture from the Saxon era in England. Discovered in 1820 face down, buried under the church floor, it is thought to have been the lid of a sarcophagus belonging to an early saint, possibly Betti. It dates from about 700 CE, and displays a sophisticated iconography which reveals a strong Eastern influence e.g. the use of the Greek cross with equal arms. Perhaps the most interesting question is who produced this work 1,300 years ago, and was it carried here or made on the spot?

St Mary’s in its oval churchyard

Clearly the present thirteenth-century building (above) was not the first on this site; in fact the name of the local river, Ecclesbourne, suggest a very ancient foundation, probably a minster church for the whole wapentake of Wirksworth. Just as churches were built by travelling stone masons we can assume that sculpture like this was the work of itinerant artists, who would also produce crosses like those at Bradbourne and Eyam. It is claimed that the Wirksworth stone shows the work of two masons, the one responsible for the lower half being more skilled than his (or her) workmate. Although overall the workmanship is somewhat crude, the scenes portrayed cover the whole range of Christian teaching.

The ascent of Christ, in mandala (detail)

The left hand side of the stone has been broken off, so originally there were ten scenes but now only eight are visible. It appears that the stone should be read vertically, top to bottom, rather than left to right like a modern comic strip. So the top left scene shows Christ washing the feet of the disciples, and the one below the Harrowing of Hell, when the crucified Christ is supposed to have descended into Hades. The next pair are clearly the Crucifixion (with four evangelists) paired with the Ascension below. The third scene on the top represents the death of the Virgin, and below this the Annunciation is shown, with Mary seated. The final scene on top is the Presentation of the infant Christ in the temple, and under this the disciples prepare for their preaching mission (note the figure in the boat). Overall, and assuming the missing section showed the Nativity and the Baptism of Christ, the whole panel presents a remarkable statement of fundamental Christian beliefs. The position of Wirksworth on the Derbyshire Portway reinforces the theory that this was the work of travelling craftsmen, bringing the essentials of their religion in pictorial form to the (presumably) illiterate of the Peak.

Highways and Byways in Derbyshire – a good read

My somewhat battered copy

Macmillan published the first book in their Highways and Byways series in 1898 and, remarkably, the last in 1948; a total of nearly 40 titles covering most of Britain. All are detailed guides with plentiful illustrations by respected illustrators. Well-bound in hard covers with gilt lettering, the series must have been popular as copies can still be bought quite cheaply from second-hand sources. The volume on Derbyshire was quite early, in 1905, written by JB Firth and illustrated by Nelly Erichsen, who was from a Danish family.

An inviting title page

The author, unusually, writes from the viewpoint of a walker, so that the reader can follow his progress in detail, which is especially interesting if the reader knows an area well. Clearly there are many changes to the scenery 120 years later; for instance at Ambergate then-triangular station: ‘the station becomes simply a hideous deformity, and the adjoining kilns of Bullbridge throw up fleecy masses of white clouded smoke’. In Edwardian fashion there are many digressions in the form of stories of famous folk who have lived locally, and Firth is not afraid of copious quotations of poetry, but these rather add to the book’s charm.

Another value of the book is the recording of otherwise lost data. For example, the footpath that runs uphill from Pentrich mill to Pentrich church (see map above) is today simply a field path. but in the 1900s was clearly more: ‘This broad track used to bear the name of Deadman’s Lane, not from any relics which have been found there but because by this way dead men were borne to their last resting place in Pentrich churchyard‘. Firth also says that higher up, near the church, the line of the Roman road, Ryknild Street, was still marked with hedges.