Riding with Cobbett -1

William Cobbett

William Cobbett (1762-1835) was a radical farmer, journalist and campaigner who travelled extensively in England in the 1820s and 1830s, inspecting the state of farming and farm workers. His reports, collected as Rural Rides, also give us a picture of life on the roads in those decades before the railways radically changed patterns of travel. Cobbett went mainly on horseback, but also sometimes by post chaise, which was a light, four-wheel vehicle which usually only had seats for two.

A type of post chaise – in some cases the driver sat on the chaise

Even a relatively sophisticated vehicle like this was still liable to accidents:

‘This hill is called Burlip Hill, it is as much as a mile down it, and the descent so steep as to require the wheels of the chaise to be locked; and, even with that precaution, I did not think it over and above safe to sit in the chaise … so, I got out and walked down’.

Like many other travellers Cobbett frequently complained about the price of refreshments at the inns:

‘Four shillings for teas,’ and ‘eighteen pence for cold meat,’ ‘two shillings of moulds and fire,’ in this common coach-room, and ‘five shillings for beds!’

In preference to lunching at inns he recommends a diet of apples and nuts, which seems strikingly modern.

Haymakers and reapers – George Stubbs

We often forget that there were many travellers on foot in early modern England, including, Cobbett reminds us, the ‘perambulating labourers’ who moved around the country with the various harvests, especially hay and wheat:

We saw, all the way down, squads of labourers, of different departments, migrating from tract to tract; leaving the cleared fields behind them … and then, as to the classes of labourers, the mowers, with their scythes on their shoulders, were in front, going on to the standing crops, while the hay-makers were coming on behind towards the grass already cut or cutting. The mowers are all English, the hay-makers all Irish’.

Rain

Sir George Crewe of Calke with son John

It’s easy to assume that every extreme weather event – heatwave, drought or flood – must be the product of global warming. However, the storm that hit Derbyshire almost exactly 192 years ago, on the 26th of June 1830, could hardly have been caused by this. The event is recorded in the diary of Sir George Crewe of Calke Abbey, who describes how at 11.30 in the evening:

‘…the rain began to fall in torrents – I might say to descend in one sheet of water. Such rain I never heard before … Thus it continued, I should think, for at least an hour and a half‘.

Calke Abbey

In the morning Sir George went downstairs and found that the house had been flooded overnight through the front door, with red mud all over the carpets. Outside the lawns were covered in mud and the drive had been swept clear, down to its foundations. As a magistrate he had to drive to the Petty Sessions in Ashby that morning, and he records the difficulty of getting there due to the washed-out state of the roads.

A nineteenth-century view of Swarkestone Bridge

His diary records that on July 13th he had to attend the Quarter Sessions in Chesterfield – a substantial journey on horseback of about 45 miles (he must have had to stay overnight). The route would have taken him over the ancient Swarkestone Bridge, which had fortunately survived the torrents. At the Sessions he was told that the county needed £7,000 for bridge repairs as a result of the downpour – in modern terms, nearly a million pounds. No less than six bridges on the Amber alone had been swept away. Clearly, even the best turnpike roads at this time were unsealed, and so liable to be washed out in the event of severe rain.

Signposting the Peaks and Paths

Sign at the junction of five paths near Alderwasley

Many progressive social movements, such as the Cooperative Society, started in the Manchester area, and in 1894 this was the birthplace of one of Britain’s oldest footpath protection clubs, the Peak and Northern Footpath Society. Today it operates in Lancashire, parts of Yorkshire, Derbyshire, Cheshire and Staffordshire, with its headquarters in Stockport. Partly thanks to the pandemic, which drove so many people to explore their local areas, the society has become even stronger and more active, with over 1,300 members. To some extent this may also be the result of so many local authorities being unable or unwilling to maintain the footpath network.

An early model

Originally founded to obtain access to the high moors of Kinderscout, the society developed a concern for all rights of way for walkers in its area. It soon started to mark these with its distinctive signposts, a vital reassurance at a time when many walkers could not afford maps (while map apps hadn’t even been dreamed of!) Today there are over 550 distinctive aluminium signposts scattered around the five counties, maintained by a team of dedicated volunteers. In fact the PNFS is entirely run by volunteers, a remarkable example of cooperative achievement. These volunteers include 172 footpath inspectors in 730 parishes who regularly walk the paths and report any faults to a path database.

Another popular route

Although a great deal of fuss is made of the so-called ‘Mass Trespass’ of 1932 the PNFS has been effectively defending the rights of walkers for well over 100 years, challenging planning applications and forcing landowners to open up paths that they were trying to block. In addition, the Society has also helped pay for many footbridges at crucial points of the path network, and organises a regular programme of long-ish (and longer) walks on both sides of the Pennines. A quarterly magazine, inevitably called ‘Signpost’ keeps members informed of developments. Why not join – it’s only £15 per year? See: http://www.peakandnorthern.org.uk/

The two Williams

St Anne’s, Beeley

Diaries can be a useful source in studying travel patterns in the past. William Hodkin was a farmer and general dealer at Beeley, on the Chatsworth estate in the mid-nineteenth century. He kept a diary, mainly of his farming work, from 1864 to 1866, which reveals the shape of his trading network. Although the station at Rowsley was open at this time he made relatively little use of the railway, either riding on horseback or travelling with a cart when collecting or selling livestock or deadstock.

During two and a half months April to June 1864 he travelled to Bakewell 13 times, to Calton Lees 5 times, and to Chesterfield, Beeley Moor and Rowsley 4 times each. Other trips took him to Ashford, Matlock and Edensor. Interestingly, the state of the roads is never discussed: presumably he knew them all so well that there seemed no need to mention it, although he does once mention that his horse had collapsed on the steep hill to Chesterfield.

Hilltop House, Beeley, one of William’s regular destinations

It has to be admitted that William Hodkin was no Pepys. A typical entry (Thursday July 5th, 1864) reads: ‘Went rabbitting in the morning, making bills out at night. Father not doing much Thomas thrashing John carting stone to the highways’. This last job is a reminder that the roads around Beeley were not then tarmaced, and were still maintained by local labour. His wife is only referred to as ‘The Mrs’, although there are frequent mentions of the weather, and the occasional reference to the vicar’s sermon shows that William did sometimes take time off.

William’s landlord, William Cavendish, 7th Duke of Devonshire

Defoe’s Derbyshire tour

Biography of Daniel Defoe author of "Robinson Crusoe"
An early tourist

Few people living in Derbyshire in the eighteenth century have left an account of their travels; clearly they didn’t feel any need to describe their everyday experiences. Therefore it is left to the handful of early tourists to provide an impression of journeying in the county three hundred years ago. Daniel Defoe was an early novelist and journalist who visited many English counties in the 1720s in order to produce his A Tour of England and Wales.

Beginning at Derby, he had clearly chosen a wet season for his visit, since he had to abandon plans to visit Ashbourne on account of ‘the river drowning the low-grounds by a sudden shower, and hastening to the Trent with a most outrageous stream’, a reminder that, not so long ago, travel was very much at the whim of the weather. There are other references to the Derwent as ‘a frightful creature when the hills load her current with water’.

Cave at Harborough Rocks

Defoe’s next stop was Wirksworth, which he found interesting due to the lead trade, despite the inhabitants being ‘a rude boorish kind of people’. The most remarkable part of this visit was an excursion to Harborough Rocks, which was called the Giant’s Tomb at that time. Here he found a lead miner’s family living in a cave, which had been lived in by his family for several generations. Defoe was both horrified, and impressed that people could cope with such crude conditions: ‘they seemed to live very pleasantly, the children look’d plump and fat’. Defoe’s party had a whip-round and gave the miner’s wife several shillings. (Today the cave can be visited quite easily by climbing up from the High Peak Trail).

Other items on his itinerary were more predictable: the Wonders of the Peak, and a focus on spas, which were just beginning to be significant destinations at this time. He is suitably impressed by Chatsworth, but comments about the moor above the house: ‘a waste and howling wilderness, over which, when strangers travel, they are obliged to take guides, or it would be next to impossible not to lose their way’. As for getting to Matlock (which he labels as a village), Defoe maintains that the warm springs would be worth visiting if access was not by ‘ a base, stony, mountainous road’ – presumably the route over Scarthin, which was eventually superseded by blasting the present road through the rocks at Cromford.

Nineteenth-century painting of High Tor, Matlock

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

Saints and sinners

Carving of pilgrim, Youlgrave church

This figure from Youlgrave church is thought to represent a pilgrim, with his (or her) staff and waist-hung satchel. We often think of pilgrimage in terms of the great medieval shrines of Christianity such as Santiago or Canterbury, but during the high middle ages (about 1100 – 1300 CE) many pilgrimages must have been more local, perhaps within a day’s journey of the pilgrim’s home. In Derbyshire, abbeys such as Dale as well as churches like St Alkmund’s in Derby would have attracted pilgrims. The main draw was the burial place of a saint or the ownership of a holy relic, such as a flask of Mary’s milk.

Sarcophagus in DerbyMuseum

Pilgrims hoped that being close to the remains of a holy person would benefit them in some way. Many were seeking a cure for an illness, often with the belief that a particular saint would help with certain conditions. Others might be making the journey as a penance, to compensate for some crime or misdemeanor. St Alkmund was a local saint who was murdered in Derby in the eighth century, and whose impressive stone sarcophagus can be seen in Derby Museum – the (rebuilt) church was demolished to make way for the city’s ring road.

St Bertram’s church, Ilam

Another local saint, although actually in Staffordshire, is St Bertram at Ilam near Ashbourne. He also lived in the Saxon period, becoming a hermit after his wife and child were eaten by wolves. One unusual feature of the church is that the shrine of the saint has survived, perhaps due to the remote location of the village. Most aspects of pilgrimage, such as shrines and relics, were removed during the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century. Yet although discouraged, pilgrimage was hard to suppress, and saw an effective revival in the growth of spa towns such as Buxton in the eighteenth century.

Ex-votos, Passau, Bavaria

In Britain there are few relics of pilgrimage, but in Catholic areas of Europe such as Spain or Bavaria it is possible to find displays of ex-votos such as the example above. These are often small paintings of a miracle rescue or healing brought about by the local saint, and given to the church in thanksgiving. In other places models of the afflicted body part, such as arm, foot or head, are displayed. Clearly, in an age of very limited medical knowledge, making a pilgrimage was often seen as an effective remedy.

Walkers, hikers or ramblers?

Squeeze style on path to Alport Height

Many of our field paths were created by people walking to work, possibly in mines or mills. With the enclosure of moors and commons in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth centuries and the building of drystone walls to delineate the new fields, these routes became fossilised, often marked by a series of squeeze stiles, as on the path above. Today the mills and mines have gone, yet the paths are kept open by walkers – a leisure activity that would probably have surprised the mill hands of Arkwright’s day.

Matlock Bath’s Swiss-style station

Walking for pleasure became popular from the mid-nineteenth century, as some workers in the industrial cities of Sheffield and Manchester gained a half-day holiday on Saturday and were able to take advantage of the new railway lines to escape from the smoky cities into the hills of Derbyshire, Yorkshire and Lancashire. At first the focus was on the Dark Peak moors, especially Kinderscout, which became a regular scene of conflict between walkers and the gamekeepers employed by the Duke of Devonshire, who owned much of the moors.

PNFS signpost near Alderwasley

The Manchester Association for the Preservation of Ancient Public Footpaths was founded as early as 1826, and Manchester remained a centre for the defence of workers’ interests, notably establishing the first public library (1852) and the first cooperative society (Rochdale, 1844). In 1894 the Peak District and Northern Counties Footpath Preservation Association (thankfully abbreviated now to Peak & Northern) was formed, and is still doing excellent work defending walkers’ rights and interests, notably through over 500 steel signs like the one above.

The Hemlock Stone today

The inter-war Kinderscout mass trespass has been widely publicised, but it was far from typical of the experience of many walkers in the Derbyshire hills. In general farmers and landowners have respected public rights of way and co-existed succesfully with ramblers. Perhaps a more typical walk is described by DH Lawrence in his Bildungsroman novel Sons and Lovers. Here, a party of friends and family, mostly connected with the Eastwood Congregationalists, set out to walk from Eastwood to the Hemlock Stone in Bramcote Hills one Bank Holiday. The walk actually took place at Easter 1905, and is an example of the way young people at that time, with little spare cash but plenty of energy, enjoyed their precious free time. The connection exemplified there between nonconformity, radical thought and hiking is interesting, and worth exploring further.

A trip to London in the 1660s

Renishaw Hall, home of the Sitwell family

The reality of travel for the wealthy in the 1660s is illustrated by Sir George Sitwell’s description of his ancestor’s annual visits to London from Renishaw Hall, at Eckington near Sheffield. This was usually at the end of April, when the roads were again passable:

His plans were laid a month or six weeks in advance, and a week or ten days before starting a box or trunk of clothes was sent on by carrier. He left Renishaw at seven o’clock in the morning, attired in a riding suit, top boots, a horseman’s cloak and a ‘mounteroe’ or Spanish travelling cap, of velvet. Pistols were borne in the holsters, for Sherwood was a noted haunt of highwaymen’.

He was accompanied by a footman, dressed in livery, carrying more clothes. It was a four day journey; the first night spent at Nottingham, the second at Harborough, and the third at Dunstable, with an average stage of about thirty miles.

‘In London, Mr Sitwell frequented the Greyhound Inn in Holborn …. and there he paid about eight shillings and fourpence a week for chamber rent and washing, and eighteen shillings and eightpence for hay and corn for his horses. Food and minor expenses came to about £1 6s. 8d. a week.

His stay in London usually lasted about a fortnight, and allowed him to meet family and friends as well as attending to business at his lawyer’s. He was also able to keep in touch with the political world via his cousin, Roger Allestry, an MP. But the fact that this trip required spending eight days on the road well illustrates the reality of seventeenth century life.

Sir George Sitwell, ‘Country Life in the Seventeenth Century’, in ‘Memorials of old Derbyshire’, 1907, Ed. C. Cox

Wayfarers all – 1

William Hogarth: Strolling actresses dressing in a barn

Many people imagine that in the past travelling was uncommon, since most folk stayed put all their lives, with the occasional visit to the nearest market town. But in fact, despite the difficulties, substantial numbers were on the move, mainly from necessity. With a much smaller population, widely scattered across the country, few towns were large enough to support a range of services. Justice, for example, might be dispensed by the local magistrate , but for more serious offences the quarter sessions were held every three months, with the assize judges travelling from town to town.

Similarly, outside London few places were large enough to have their own theatres. So at least from Tudor times, and probably earlier, ‘strolling players’ would be on the road, probably with a couple of carts for their props, bringing their dramatic repertoire to an audience quite deprived of entertainment.

The more respectable troupes would be invited to perform at the houses of the gentry, but the majority could have rigged up a temporary stage at an inn yard or even the churchyard. Hogarth’s engraving, above, satirically suggests the low social standing of the players, forced to prepare their performance in a barn, where they would presumably be spending the night. At least the children seem to be enjoying the atmosphere!

As with many kinds of itinerant workers who have left no written records, it is hard to know what kinds of plays they performed. Apparently well-known stories such as Robin Hood were popular. Some of the performers could have been acrobats or jugglers, foreshadowing the travelling circus, which first appeared in England in the 1760s.

However, the authorities were always nervous of the theatre, fearing it would inflame popular rebellion, and although London theatres were often closed (firstly by the Puritans in 1642), strolling players were more difficult to control. But an Act of Parliament of 1737 (just visible on the bed in the foreground) sought to suppress them, and the performers in the engraving may be making their last bow.