What a strange walk today! In between the snow showers, I set off to look for early bluebells – and lo and behold, there were quite a lot in Middleton Woods. I always feel so optimistic when I see them, true heralds of better weather. But this really does seem early for them: the recent mild weather maybe fooled them into blooming so soon…..
It just seemed weird that soon after seeing them, it snowed again. Below is a photo from this morning, looking out of the window onto this Narnia-like winter scene:
And finally, walking through the park, there was some blossom out. Below is a photo from today, and below that, a view along the Grove in Ilkley the other day, with the beautiful blossom trees lining the road.
You can read more about this historic area of Ilkley in the appropriate Page but I thought I would share the photos on here too as I had a lovely walk round there today. Above is the medieval Manor House and below, a section of the Roman fort wall.
Yesterday I had the amazing experience of laser eye surgery. Having been short sighted since the age of 13, like many others I have just had to get used to using glasses/contact lenses for distance and more recently, also close vision. I always wanted to get laser surgery done, but it’s only now thanks to a legacy from my dear godmother, Margaret. that I have been able to do this. So this post is a little about that as well as a hidden corner of Yorkshire.
I chose to use Custom Vision Clinic at the historic Bowcliffe Hall near Wetherby. I looked at other options, but CV stood out for me because it didn’t have a single bad review, unlike some of the larger companies, and the price was no more expensive than those. And although it’s early days, I am really impressed with James (surgeon), Gurpal (optometrist) and their staff. The whole focus there seems to be about seeing their patients as individuals rather than pound signs, working out the best plan for each individual, and providing a great, caring service. I am 28 hours post surgery, my eyes are a little dry but not too bad, and my vision is about 80% of full vision (already far better than it was!) and improving as the eye dryness is reduced and my brain learns to get used to the new vision.
To go on to Bowcliffe Hall, it’s private so you can only visit if you’re attending the clinic or one of the other businesses based there, but it is a lovely place. The Hall was begun in 1805 by a Manchester cotton-mill owner, William Robinson, who bought the land and completed the west wing before he went bankrupt. The next owner completed the hall and gardens in 1825 and in the 1840s the house was bought by George Lane-Fox whose family owned nearby Branham Park (which had burnt down in 1828) and his family remained there until moving back to the newly restored Bramham Park in 1906. (Their family still own it and host LeedsFest there!)
Bowcliffe was sold to a Mr Jackson, director of a local coal mining company, and he in turn sold it to Robert Blackburn, an aircraft pioneer, in 1917. When Robert died in 1955, his company. which owned the hall, sold it to a business, and since then it has been a home to a number of different businesses. You can even get married in the tiny chapel there; despite only seating 12, it is grandly called “St Michael of the Mount”.
The owner certainly has a sense of humour as you can see from the signs below!
Meet Alfie, the cutest Yorkshire terrier I know, who belongs to my friend Mandy. He came to the river with us after our wild swim and decided when we had a drink at the Riverside Pub that he was my new bessie mate! Aged 14, he is an amazing little man who still enjoys the scents of the great outdoors.
Yorkiefun facts:
Yorkshire terriers originally came from Scotland, where they were known as “broken-haired Scotch terriers” and bred for ratting in mills, mines and other places of industry. When the Scottish weavers moved south for work, they took their little dogs with them, and the breed was refined and perfected in Yorkshire, appearing in shows there from 1861.
The name was officially changed to “Yorkshire Terrier” in 1870 after a reporter publicised the improvement in the breed since it came to Yorkshire.
Yorkshire terriers are one of the smallest breeds of dog and were Yorkshire’s go-to answer to rats in mills. (Given how many mills Yorkshire has acquired since the Industrial Revolution, their popularity is not really surprising!)
The Yorkie’s coat has a very similar texture to human hair.
It was lovely to get up into the Dales at the weekend, meeting friends for a catch-up at Country Harvest, near Ingleton. (This makes a great stop-off on the way to the Lakes or the west coast).
I always enjoy the views of Ingleborough from this area. At 723m it may be only the second highest of our Yorkshire 3 Peaks, but it is arguably the most well-known. Its distinctive flat top was created as the millstone grit “cap” has weathered more slowly than the rock that once covered it. This plateau was once the home to a small community of Brigantes (the local tribe) during the Iron Age, and the remains of their hill fort can still be seen up there.
Below the cap of millstone grit, more permeable limestone and shales have been shaped and eroded by water running down from the cap, with numerous caves and potholes forming within the hill. Pre-Covid, it was possible to be winched down into the massive Gaping Gill cavern by the Bradford Pothole Club, and this is beginning again in May this year if you fancy it! (the link is https://www.bpc-cave.org.uk/wp/gg-winch-meet/)
St Michael and All Angels Church, Haworth from Church Lane. Apart from the bottom part of the tower, the church dates from 1879.
Having visited the Parsonage, we called into the church as well. Although only the tower remains from the one the Brontë family knew, there are memories from the Brontës both inside the church and in the surrounding graveyard. Below is the Brontë chapel within the church, paid for by an American admirer and dedicated in 1964. The communion table and chandelier are taken from the Old Church.
On display you can see the entry in the parish registers showing the burial of Emily on December 22nd 1848. The service was taken by Arthur Nicholls, the curate, who later married Charlotte. Understandably, Patrick was probably too upset to take his daughter’s funeral service, although he did take one in the November.
Below is the memorial tablet detailing the whereabouts of the Brontë vault where the family are buried, apart from Anne, who died and was buried at Scarborough on the Yorkshire coast. Sadly, Patrick outlived his entire family: I am a huge admirer of his (our younger son is his namesake) as he was a loving father and caring, pastoral minister to his parish and really feel for him as he lost his wife and all 6 of his children.
The memorial below commemorates the Revd William Weightman, perhaps a lesser known Brontë connection. He was curate for several years, and in a succession of curates who were ridiculed by Charlotte in her novel “Shirley”, he stood out as the family’s favourite. Caring, kind and full of fun, even to the extent of sending the Brontë girls a Valentine card each, it is said that Anne fell in love with him. Certainly he was a great support to Patrick and a good friend to Branwell when he was going through some soul-searching times, and the memorial is a moving tribute to his tireless ministry to the parish. He died aged just 26 from cholera caught while visiting a sick child. Maybe if this hadn’t happened, Anne’s story would have been very different.
Finally, the churchyard is also worth a look. It’s said there are over 40,000 people buried here! It is likely to have been a major contributor to the high death rates in the village, as some of the water supply came through it! Two of the Brontë family’s servants are buried here: Tabitha Aykroyd, who died in her 80s just before Charlotte, and had been with the family over 30 years, and Martha, daughter of the sexton and Branwell’s friend John Brown, who is buried with her parents under quite an ornate memorial. There is a board by the entrance to help you locate these.
Tabitha (“Tabby”) is the second person on the stone.
The grave of Martha Brown and her parents, close to the Parsonage.
The Brontë Parsonage and the Old School Room from Church Lane. This view is very similar to how the Brontës would have known it.
My long-suffering husband John was kind enough to take me to Haworth today (hard to drive with a sprained ankle!) I have loved this place since my dear friend Claire got me into the Brontës when we were 8 years old!
There is something special about visiting the home of someone famous. Walking the floors where they once trod, seeing the views from the windows as they did, seeing their furniture and belongings, and faithful recreations of the rooms as they knew them where possible, somehow brings them closer and makes them real. The Brontë Society, who own and run the Brontë Parsonage Museum, have achieved this in spades. For instance, look at the photo below: how many times would the family have opened their door and seen this view (with the garden perhaps a little more productive with fruit bushes)? Welcoming guests, going out to church (the raised stone in the wall marks the site of their gate into the churchyard), visiting parishioners… their daily lives were lived here!
The view of the church from the front door of the Parsonage.
Here is a taste of the Parsonage interior. The rooms are mostly as the Brontës knew them, with as many of their possessions as possible in each.
The dining room, with one of Charlotte’s dresses on the left. The Brontë girls would walk arm-in-arm around this table every evening after supper, chatting and reading bits of their work to each other. Anne was notorious for sitting with her feet on the fender of the fire!
Patrick’s study still retains the piano played by Emily and Anne, and some of his personal belongings. I love the way it looks as though he just nipped out to visit a parishioner or to take a service, and might reappear at any time.
This grandfather clock belonged to the Brontê family and is back in its alcove on the stairs. Patrick would tell his children not to stay up too late, then pause to wind it on his way to bed at 9pm each night.
This tiny room was a couple of feet wider till Charlotte extended the room next door and moved the wall to the right. The servants called it “the children’s study” and much of their earlier imaginings happened here. It later became Emily’s room and contary to the legend that she died on the sofa downstairs, it is now thought that she died here.
Patrick’s bedroom, later shared with his son Branwell who managed to set fire to the bed while in it.
I hope this post has given a little insight into the family’s everyday life. I have only included photos of the rooms which look something like they might have done while the Brontës lived there: some, such as the kitchen, were radically altered by the next incumbent and some are now used to exhibit items.
The abstract: sheep mural on the former International Wool Secretariat building in Ilkley
The sprained ankle led me to a physiotherapy appointment today and en route I couldn’t resist a photo of the impressive entrance to the former International Wool Secretariat building in Ilkley. Created in 1968, this grade 2 listed public art scuplture graced the building for around 40 years. Called “The Story of Wool”, it depicts abstract sheep and wool processing and was created by artist William George Mitchell.
Just a hobble with the crutch again today. It’s good to be close to the river and able to go down for a walk beside it. The Wharfe is known as a capricious, unpredictable river and should always be treated with respect, but it never fails to impress. This bridge was built at the site of the ford, which was previously the only crossing point in Ilkley. You can definitely see what look like large stone flags on the riverbed here: I don’t know if they are definitely the ford, but I like to think that they could be!
Both sons came home this weekend, they are keener walkers than my husband and were happy to take me up to the edge of Langbar/Middleton Moors. It was so good to be back there after nearly 3 weeks of being restricted by the sprained ankle, I managed 2 miles along the lanes in the sunshine with the stunning views across to Ilkley Moor and the Skipton hills. We passed “Concrete Square”: if you’re wondering, this is exactly what it is! I have tried to find out why it’s there and have been told that in World War 2 it was the platform for a searchlight finding German planes flying over to Liverpool but I have no way of checking this information.
Moors at last! Beamsley Beacon ridge in the background.We love our sheep in Yorkshire! Ilkley town and moor in the background.Happy Mum! Up at Concrete Square with my boys.
