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CALDBECK CHARACTERS

TALES OF TEN LOCAL PEOPLE 1777 - 1974

Published by CALDBECK AND DISTRICT LOCAL HISTORY SOCIETY

ISBN 0 9526009 0 0

© Caldbeck & District Local History Society 1995

Printed by Sadler’s Printers, Wigton, Cumbria.

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION iv JOHN PEEL (1777-1854) 1 MARY HARRISON (1779-1837) 9 THE RICHARDSON WRESTLERS (1780-1860) 12 JOHN WOODCOCK GRAVES (1795-1886) 18 JULIA MARLOWE (1866-1950) 25 SALLY IVINSON (1884-1967) 27 FRED BARTLE (1884-1944) 30 Dr MABEL BARKER (1886-1961) 37 PEARSON DALTON (1897-1974) 46 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 51

INTRODUCTION Towards the end of the eighteenth century, when the first of the notable ‘characters’ described in this book flourished, Caldbeck was a thriving, though scattered, community of some 1,500 souls, with an economy based on farming, milling and mining. The earliest evidences of human activity in the area are the Iron Age hill fort on Carrock Fell and a number of British place-names. The east-west road called ‘The Street’ probably indicates a Roman origin since the Romans would have been aware of the mineral deposits (ores of copper, lead and silver) to be found in the Caldbeck Fells. The dedication of the Parish Church to St Kentigern, and the nearby St Mungo’s well, bear out the tradition that an Anglian settlement by the swift-flowing stream at the southern limit of the great Inglewood Forest was visited by Kentigern (Mungo), Bishop of Glasgow, on a missionary journey in the sixth century. (The eight such dedications, in a small area of north Cumbria, are the only ones south of the present border with Scotland). In the succeeding centuries Anglian and Scandinavian settlers cleared the forested areas. The Cald Beck, after which the village is named, provided a plentiful supply of water power for the mills essential to a farming community and in turn led to the growth of a woollen milling industry. Tributaries of the Cald Beck also supplied water power for the mining industry, a dominant feature of the landscape for some 400 years. Conditions in the industries were harsh and were mirrored in hard times for the people who lived by them. The development of ‘character’ is a common response to adversity and there was plenty of that in Caldbeck, notwithstanding local initiative and capacity for hard work.

Caldbeck Characters tells the stories of ten people, men and women, who were born locally or came to live in the area. All of them strove for independence in some way and all of them were determined to succeed. Their work or leisure activities included farming, sport, education, shepherding, the Arts, foxhunting and gamekeeping. Some of these pursuits have disappeared or changed beyond their former recognition. This book records events that are worth preserving against the passage of time and pays tribute to the community that produced and sustained the personalities described herein.

NOTE ON THIS PUBLICATlON Since its formation in 1985, the Caldbeck and District Local History Society has been assembling an archive of material relating to the area and its people. The annual evening of ‘Reminiscences’ has furnished many examples of the fund of personal recollections available in the area, some of which are recorded on tape. We felt that the time had now come to make a more permanent record of some of the already well-known ‘characters’. The contributors to this book have written from their own knowledge, or in close collaboration with friends and descendants of their subjects. As there are many more people who could have been included we hope that this book may be the first of a series.

View of Caldbeck looking towards St. Kentigern’s Church and the former rectory. Photograph by John Price

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JOHN PEEL (1777-1854)

n May 1776 William Peel (son of Cock-and-Bacon Peel of Ireby) and Lettice Scott ran away to Gretna Green to be

married. William refused to pay the ‘priest’ the fees he demanded so they returned to Caldbeck unwed. The Scott family finally relented and consented and the young couple were married ‘proper’ in the Parish Church. The couple lived at Greenrigg, a fellside farm of 25 acres. Not too long afterwards their son was born. Lettice Peel was with her parents at Park End and it was here she gave birth to her son John. The original house is now just a part of the old stone farm buildings of the farm at Park End. John Peel was born into a statesman’s (yeoman) farming family and lived in the Caldbeck and Ireby districts all his life. In the 18th century the Caldbeck area supported a thriving industrial community of about 2,000 people. There were water-powered mills and mining with all the related crafts and trades needed to sustain these industries. Today Caldbeck remains a centre for the enduring farming community which has survived and upheld many traditions which John Peel would recognise, including his old sport of foxhunting which has hardly changed (except of course the following by motor vehicles). In his day Peel was as important as any famous sporting star of today - although his following (without mass media) was very local. However, through a song or because of a song, written by his greatest friend and admirer, John Woodcock Graves, it has inspired foxhunters, soldiers and exiled Cumbrians all over the world and has kept Peel’s memory alive through two hundred years. A great number of people come, out of either curiosity or respect, and stand and

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ponder awhile at Peel’s grave and read the inscription on his headstone in Caldbeck churchyard. John grew up as the eldest of 13 children; six girls and seven boys. He would have had a hard life by today’s standards without much, if any, schooling, though we do know he learnt to write his own name, but nothing much else. He spent his young days helping on the family farm and helping his father break in his fell ponies. (His father supplemented the farm income by horse-dealing and, it is said, was a “varra honest yan”.) John was hired out at 12 years old. He was healthy and strong and grew to be very tall for the Peel family. As an adult he was 6ft lin tall and weighed 13 stone, described as “tebble lang in t’leg and lish wid a fine girt neb an grey eyes that cud see for’wen.” However, his daughter said his eyes were a piercing blue. My own daughter to this day has beautiful blue ‘Peel’s eyes’. He had a strong jaw, chiselled features, and wore his hair longish in naturally curled ringlets. (What happened to the family curls, I ask myself!) As John grew up he took an interest in foxhunting. He began to keep a few hounds himself and he started courting Mary White, whose family farmed in Uldale. He was 20 when she was 18. Mary’s family objected to this match, their reason being the couple were far too young. Determined and undeterred, John took one of his father’s best horses, called Binsey, and through the night he and Mary eloped to Gretna Green. They were married at daybreak by the blacksmith. Later Mary’s parents, after much ranting and raving, had to acknowledge their daughter’s marriage, but they insisted that another marriage ceremony should take place in Caldbeck Church. John and Mary exchanged their marriage vows again on the 18th December 1797, when members of both families were

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present. On Mary’s marriage to John Peel, Mrs White endowed her daughter with a property at Ruthwaite, near Ireby, which brought the couple independence with an income of £400 - £500 per year. With this allowance it became possible for John to indulge in his love of hunting. In the earlier days of farming, farmers and shepherds had to kill foxes, eagles, ravens and the like who preyed upon their lambs however they could. Parish Church accounts record rewards given to anyone showing evidence of a kill. In the early 1700s hounds were first collected from the farms and kept in packs. The keenest and most knowledgeable man would be elected as huntsman for the district - he would be supported by the landowners and statesman farmers. The packs would hunt from farm to farm over an agreed area, often staying a week or two at lambing time. In summer the hounds returned to their individual farms. This is still so with some packs to this day. John Peel formed his own pack of hounds over a number of years. He kept a few at home and billeted out about 12 couple to the local farms. Here the farmers fed them, mainly on meal, but supplemented with the broth of cooked deadstock; as is the same today. Farmers take casualties to local kennels. Peel became well known as a good breeder and trainer of hounds. He would be up very early on hunt days, calling in his hounds with his horn from the neighbouring farms. Some villagers did complain about being “awoken from their beds” but generally few could resist the call of the hounds and often dropped tools to follow the hunt. It has been said (true or false - who knows?) that the odd funeral or wedding was abandoned midway, with a quick apology to the congregation, to enable the parson to join the hunt followers. It is reputed that the fox of Peel’s day was much bigger, greyer and slightly more wolf-like than its modern day cousin;

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also stronger and more capable of running great distances without tiring so much. Once the hounds found a scent (drag) it was nothing to have a 50-60 mile chase. Peel’s hunting was sometimes on foot only and sometimes he rode. His most famous horse was in fact a cross-bred Fell pony called Dunny. There are many wonderful stories about faithful Dunny, not least it kneeling down to make it easier for Peel to mount after over celebrating the day’s hunting. At other times, in similar circumstances, Peel was laid over Dunny’s back and it was told to “Tek him yam.” Quite a sight at any time, and in any position, this tall man of over 6 feet riding his small Dunny. Let’s get one thing straight. John Peel never wore a red (hunting pink) hunting coat. He wore a long coat of Hodden grey. This was the locally woven cloth of Caldbeck, made from the fleece of the Lake District’s own breed of sheep - the Herdwick. This cloth was undyed, waterproof and almost indestructible. From the Hodden grey of his coat we get the line from the song “...his coat so grey” and another line from the beautiful song The Horn of the Hunter is Silent when it says “...he wore it for work - not for show”. He wore corduroy breeches and long hunting boots (though some reports say he wore shoes). With the boots he wore hand-knitted stockings. He wore a neck scarf and a tall black hat, the fashion of the day. He had at least three hunting horns, all bulged and battered through helping him open gates! Every horn sold locally over the years has been said to belong to John Peel. If this had been so he could have been said to own many more than three. Throughout his life he must have had many hounds, but his favourites were Ruby, Ranter, Bellman and Royal. He must have talked about them to John Woodcock Graves as these were the ones to be immortalised in the song.

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In 1830 John Peel went as huntsman to work on the estate of Armathwaite Hall belonging to Sir Frederick Fletcher Vane of Hutton-in-the-Forest (i.e. Inglewood). He must have been well liked and respected by his employer, who commissioned Peel’s portrait to be painted.

John Peel with a favourite hound. From a painting by Ramsay Richard Reinagle (1775 - 1862). It was also whilst being huntsman for Sir Frederick that the longest and perhaps one of the greatest hunts ever to be recorded took place - the chase being all of 70 miles. On his two or three hunting mornings per week he would start the day with a good helping of porridge and milk and that would see him through until late afternoon. Now was the time for meat, onions, potatoes and cabbage and other simple vegetables. Then would come the ale. Ale that was

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brewed locally and some farmers brewing their own. It was good and strong and there was plenty of it. Hunting days ended up in the local pub with plenty of ale flowing. One of the most frequented pubs was the Sun Inn at Ireby. Peel had a reputation of being a hard drinker - which is quite true - but no more than others of the time. According to his son-in-law, Robinson Bell of Ireby, it was no more than was socially acceptable in those days. Remember, tea and coffee were not readily available and some of the water was just not fit to drink, so it was quite the norm to drink ale. John Peel made a living from farming and horse dealing - as had his father. He is said to have neglected the farm and it is quite true that his hunting activities were expensive and time consuming. It is quite likely that his friends saw more of him than Mary did. It is not recorded of her ever complaining and she remained loyal to him throughout. She would have plenty to do to bring up their large family of 13. As was the norm for Cumbrian families of the 18th and 19th centuries, the mainstay of their diet was oatmeal. It was made into ‘poddish’ and bread. Meat was often dried. Hares frequently were a substitute for beef and mutton. It is true John was a restless man. He hated being indoors for any length of time and in times of emotional stress he needed to be out and about to cope with it. In the June of 1814 Mary was in labour with twins; John is said to have said “It didn’t matter if there be fower - I mun gan to Rosley Fair.” So it was to Rosley Horse Fair he went. During the night of the 14th -15th November 1840, his son Peter died. Peter was a malformed and dwarfish boy. His father sat up with him all night. He promptly went hunting next morning, telling disapproving neighbours he wanted a brush to put in the lad’s coffin. Peter was 27.

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They were living on and farming Mary’s property at Ruthwaite, but his friend John Woodcock Graves tells us “...in the latter part of his life his estate was embarrassed but the right sort in old Cumberland called a meet .....closing by presenting him with a handsome gratuity which enabled him to shake off his encumbrances”. His eldest son John, known as Young John even though he lived until 90 years of age, sometimes deputised at the hunts for his father as he grew older. Father John was still keen and went out hunting until the last two weeks of his life. He died on 13th November 1854, aged 78. It has been said his death was due to injuries sustained whilst out hunting, but this has never been definite. Another report says he was taken ill one week before he died. Who knows? Numerous reports say 3,000 people attended his funeral in Caldbeck Church. Postscript A few points of interest: The places John Peel lived in (no exact dates as reports differ enormously): Born at Park End. Lived at Greenrigg, Park End, Upton, (all Caldbeck) and at Ruthwaite (Ireby). In 1890 there was a census of Peel’s descendants. They numbered 130. Imagine what it would be now! The names of his children were: John Nancy Henry Elizabeth Thomas Mary Peter (died aged 27) Lettice Jonathan (died aged 2) Margaret William Isabella Jonathan II My great-great-grandmother, Mrs Isabella Hudson, was John Peel’s daughter and the last of his family to survive. She died at Park End, only yards away from the old house her

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father was born in 127 years earlier, and I am pleased to say both properties are still in the hands of one of his descendants. After his death many of Peel’s hounds were sold. His son, Young John, was a keen huntsman but lacked the untiring enthusiasm of his father. The Blencathra Pack had the choice of the best and perhaps it is no coincidence that the Blencathra is the best and the best known of all the Cumbrian packs today. To round off this story, a hunting horn used by John Peel, which sold at Sotheby’s to an American collector in 1985 for £5,500, has been returned to this country.

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MARY HARRISON (1779-1837)

he tragic early story of Mary Robinson, so-called Beauty of Buttermere, is well authenticated in the contemporary

literature. Joseph Palmer, writing as Captain Budworth in his A Fortnight’s Ramble to the Lakes in 1792, extolled the virtues and beauty of Mary, the l3-year old daughter of the landlord of the Fish Inn at Buttermere. This brought other visitors to the area and a direct outcome of the unfortunate publicity was her marriage at Lorton in 1802 to the bogus Colonel Augustus Hope, who was soon exposed as John Hatfield, bigamist and forger, and was hanged (for forgery) at Carlisle in 1803. One of Mary’s descendants has a silver coin of 1760, said to have been given to Mary by Hatfield, on which the name ‘M. Robinson’ is engraved. Mary’s sad story was well known and was written of at the time by, among others, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey and de Quincey. Dramas and melodramas were produced in London theatres during the 19th century, and more recently the story has been revived in fictional form in Melvyn Bragg’s Maid of Buttermere. Not so well documented is the story of Mary’s life after these traumatic experiences. At some stage after returning to work with her parents in Buttermere she met Richard Harrison, son of a line of substantial yeoman farmers of Caldbeck, who is said to have gone to Buttermere to buy sheep. They were married at Brigham in 1808 and came to Caldbeck to live in the family farm of Todcrofts, while Richard’s parents moved to Upton Gate. They had seven children, of whom three were born and baptised at Buttermere, and two died in childhood. Those born in Caldbeck were Anne (1813), Richard (1815), Grace (1820) and Joseph (1822)

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Richard was active in village life, his name being found on village committees dealing with fell-grazing and stint rights. In 1813 there was a dispute about rights of way in the Howk which resulted in Richard destroying the rock bridge across the beck, to the concern of John Greenup, then Parish Surveyor. John Greenup’s son, also John, later married the Harrisons’ daughter Anne.

Todcrofts, Caldbeck, in 1995. Drawing by Alistair Ramsay.

There are few other known facts relating to the Harrisons’ life at Todcrofts, apart from the erection of a barn with a keystone inscribed with the initials of Richard and Mary (R M H 1822) and the inscription on another barn, added after Mary’s death in 1837. This reads ‘ R H aged 74 1852’. Richard died the following year at Upton Gate. Dickie Lonning, a bridle path leading from Maidens’ Hill to Bell Moor, is named after Richard. A bust of Richard is treasured by his Greenup descendants and several paintings and likenesses of Mary existed as a result of the early publicity. If they are true likenesses it must be assumed that our standards of beauty have changed over the past two hundred years! Wordsworth, in The Prelude, Book VII, refers to ‘her modest mien and carriage,

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marked by unexampled grace’ and de Quincey also noted her ‘womanly grace’. Sadly we have no portraits or descriptions of her during her life at Caldbeck, though it was reported that the doctor who attended Mary in her last illness commented that ‘the lineaments of the beautiful in form still prevailed’. There are many descendants of Richard and Mary’s children in Caldbeck and other parts of Cumbria and also in Canada, Australia and New Zealand. Though there are now no Harrisons in Caldbeck, there are Bells, Peels, Priestmans, Wilsons and others who trace their descent form Mary and Richard and there are many visitors who look for the gravestone in Caldbeck churchyard which commemorates Richard and Mary, four of their children, a daughter-in-law and a grandchild.

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THE RICHARDSON WRESTLERS (1780-1860)

he name of Richardson was a very well-known one in Caldbeck and Hesket Newmarket in the 18th and 19th

centuries; one reason, no doubt, being a remarkable fecundity which resulted in so many people bearing the name, and the other being that two of their number were renowned for their prowess in the wrestling ring. The two men who are the subject of this narrative, William (‘Belted Will’) and Thomas (‘Dyer’) Richardson, were each from a family of 13 children, and both were born in Caldbeck in the latter half of the 18th century. It has not been possible to discover a blood relationship between these two families. WILLIAM was born in March 1780 (some 16 years before the birth of Thomas) at Haltcliff in Caldbeck. He died in 1860. He was a joiner by occupation but later became a farmer, living and farming at Nether Row, Caldbeck. He won over 240 belts or trophies in the wrestling ring and his right to be called ‘Belted Will’ was defended by Professor Wilson, who believed he had more claim to the name than Lord William Howard of Naworth, who fought to protect himself and his castle from the border rievers! Certainly, there still remains a field in Wigton called ‘Belted Will’s’, and a new housing estate called ‘Belted Will’s Court’, which serve to remind us that another (Caldbeck’s) ‘Belted Will’ existed. Will scored his first prize at the age of 18 at Soukerry, the annual sports there ranking amongst the oldest and best local gathering in Cumberland. Sports were also held in a field

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at Highmoor, Wigton. Here a prize of a golden guinea was offered on one occasion, drawing a number of young, strong athletes, amongst them being William. It happened that he and ‘Brandy’ Todd, a spirit merchant from Wigton, were the last two wrestlers left standing. The Wigtonians shouted to Richardson: “Browte up wid poddish an kurn milk! What can thoo deu, I wad like t’ know! Go bon! Brandy ‘ll fling thee oot o’ t’ ring, like a bag o’caff!” However, it was the huge ‘Brandy’ who measured his length on the grass, and Will’s supporters shouted: “Ha, ha, Codbeck kurn’t milk’s stranger ner Wigton brandy - efter awt rattle.”

Cumberland and Westmorland style wrestling, from a poster of 1845. Again, when William was wrestling at the Beehive Inn, Deanscale, Shepherd Pearson from Wythop made a wager for

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£10 that he would find a man to win the wrestling, another to win the foot race and a hound to win the dog trail. William was chosen for the wrestling, John Todhunter of Mungrisdale for the foot race and ‘Towler’, belonging to John Harrison of Caldbeck, for the dog trail - they all three won the head prize and Shepherd Pearson won his bet. For the four years 1817 - 1820 there had been no wrestling in Carlisle, but on its revival in 1821, William (then 41) drove to the meeting with Thomas ‘Dyer’ Richardson and others. At Durdar village he agreed to try again. The numbers assembled on the Swifts were estimated at 20,000, with the Countess of Lonsdale and other gentry present. It is probable there had never been a gathering of so many such good wrestlers, yet it was William, veteran though he was, who carried off the head prize “...amid much shouting and cheering.” William also won the chief prize at Faulds Brow, Caldbeck, for 19 years in succession, and this was unequalled in wrestling annals. A ‘raw-boned’ youth, called Young, eventually vanquished him on the 20th year, the wrestling having begun in the evening of a day in July, and not finishing until 2 or 3 am the following day. William had the reputation for being a good friend and a good hater. He demonstrated his ability to be a good friend when he loaned his horse and cart to a blacksmith, named Jeffreys, who worked at the Caldbeck lead mines. He needed to fetch cut peat from a field high up on the fellside. The horse took fright, galloped down the mountain brow and was killed. In spite of the fact that the horse was a valuable one, William would not take anything from the blacksmith in recompense. Up to the end “...he had the lightest foot, and was the ‘lishest’ walker of any old man in the neighbourhood of Caldbeck.” Richard Nicolson wrote of him:

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“When youth bloom’t on him, few were as grand, His fame was spread through aw the land, Wid active russlin’ an’ strangest hand At Faulds Brow reaces, ‘t’was his profession, And prizes nineteen he won in succession. “The shipperd aroond med weal dred his name, For Herdwick tips oft the prize he’d claim, Till far an’ wide was spread his fame, As ye may read. But noo i’ the dust lies his noble frame Will Ritson’s deid!” THOMAS (1796-c1853), born some 16 years after William, was apparently no relation. Although born in Caldbeck, he was brought up in Hesket Newmarket and, like William, was one of 13 children. Because there were so many by the name of Richardson, they tended to be given nick-names, and his was ‘Dyer’, because his grandfather, John, was a dyer at Caldbeck and was famed for his blue dye. Although Bishop Goodenough, for whom his father worked, sent Thomas to be educated by a classical scholar, the Rev. John Stubbs, Thomas was far more interested in being an athlete, with a special bent towards wrestling. However his father had no such leaning, which led to a certain amount of conflict between the two. Nevertheless, Thomas had his way, and ran the distance of 14 miles between Hesket Newmarket and Carlisle to enter himself for the wrestling there. He beat Joseph Slack of Blencow and George Forster of Denton, but lost to Robert Langhorn. He continued to attend the wrestling in Carlisle, but in the September of 1816 it was very wet, and although the Marquis

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of Queensberry, Sir Philip Musgrave and other nobility were present, few ladies put in an appearance. In the fifth round Thomas came up against Tom Todd of Knarsdale. After a while Henry Pearson, a solicitor and great follower of wrestling, called Tom aside and offered him a large sum of money to leave the ring and say he “darrent russel”. Thomas’s indignant reply was “No! I’ll nowder dea sec a like thing for yee, nor nivver a man i’ Carel town!” It seems that Pearson had bet a good deal on the fact that Todd would win. (In another account, it was reported Pearson had bet so large a sum on Carter at the Gretna fight, that “...he was observed ‘fumlen wid his fingers in his mooth’ and betraying the nervous twitch peculiar to men undergoing great mental excitement!”) As already mentioned, there was no wrestling in Carlisle during the years 1817, 1818, 1819 and 1820, so Thomas wrestled at Langwathby and Keswick, where he managed to throw William Wilson of Ambleside. Years later, he turned up at Low Wood, Windermere, calling himself Thomas Porter, and won two or three rounds before being confronted by Joe Abbot of Bampton, who cried: “Damn! it’s thee Dyer, is it!” Thomas carried off the belt. He also won against William Earl of Cumwhitton, at Greystoke Castle, when the Howards awarded the prizes. Such occasions were always well attended by the neighbouring gentry. On another occasion, when wrestling on Penrith fell with Wilfrid Wright, he said: “Noo, Wiff, I’s gaen to throw thee straight into yon furrow yonder!” and proceeded to do just that. Wright exclaimed: “Cush, man! I dudn’t think thoo cud ha’ deun’t hofe sa clean!” Dyer wrestled for many years with some success but it must be said with less success than ‘Belted Will’ Richardson. Later, he lived with a sister at Penrith, who kept an inn there. He put on a great deal of weight, becoming around 17 or 18 stone and died about the year 1853 at around the age of 57.

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Although it was not possible to find anyone in Caldbeck or elsewhere who was able to pass on anecdotes about these two most colourful characters, I am indebted to the authors of Wrestling and Wrestlers 1893, from which I unashamedly got my information.

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JOHN WOODCOCK GRAVES (1795-1886)

ohn Woodcock Graves was born in Wigton, the son of Joseph Graves and his wife Ann (née Mathews). The family

business of plumbing, glazing and ironmongering was in difficulty when Joseph Graves died in 1802 and young John went to live with an uncle in Cockermouth. Graves’ early education was poor by modern standards, but perhaps not noticeably so in terms of what was available to people of modest means in the first years of the 19th century. He was probably self-taught to a certain extent, and was certainly literate and artistic. His uncle was in business as a commercial artist working mainly on signs, so young John would have been in close touch with artists’ materials and techniques. He had a benefactor, Joseph Faulds, who encouraged John in his artistic bent and when his uncle retired from business there was some intention that the young man would go abroad and study art seriously. This came to nothing, partly because of family opposition and possibly because John had already shown signs of a characteristic that was at times to bless him, and at other times to burden him, for most of his adult life. He seized on many and varied activities in turn and worked with tireless determination at them, usually to the advantage of those around him, and with little profit to himself. During his teens, Graves was a keen follower of foxhounds and this hobby was to lead to his association with John Peel, 19 years his senior and the subject of the verses which were to bring Graves more fame than all his other activities put together. He married when he was only 20, but his wife died less than a year afterwards. Five years later he was married again,

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to Miss Abigail Porthouse. The second Mrs Graves was a remarkable woman; she held the family together after they had emigrated to Tasmania and the children seem to have inherited their father’s energy and undoubted intellectual gifts combined with their mother’s steadiness of character. It is not known precisely when the family went to live in Caldbeck, although the first children - both girls - were baptised in Wigton in 1822 and 1824 respectively and the next three were baptised in Caldbeck between May 1825 and June 1831. (Two of them, though a year apart in age, were baptised on the same day.)

The Old Factory, Hodden Croft, in 1922. The immediate reason for the removal was the taking up by Graves of the first tenancy of a water-powered cloth factory newly built by the Backhouse family. One of the products was known as Skiddaw or Hodden grey and was based on wool from the local breed of Herdwick sheep. The cloth was hard-wearing, substantially waterproof and pieces of

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it made into coats were in existence locally up to 150 years after their manufacture. The natural colour of Herdwick fleece, sometimes combined with a small proportion of Leicester, was the basis of Graves’ description in the song D’ye ken John Peel of the huntsmen having a ‘coat so gray’. Following Graves’ tenancy, which lasted only eight years, two tenancies spanning nearly 70 years were granted to the Ivinson family. The second of these, held by William Ivinson, ended early in the 20th century. The photograph overleaf, taken in 1922, shows the factory in an unused state prior to its conversion to a dwelling house in 1955. The mill building exists in modified form today and the shallow valley in which it stands is known as Hodden Croft. There is no record of Graves himself having been trained in, or having experience of, the textile industry prior to the family’s arrival in Caldbeck. His attachment was apparently financial and, true to form, had been loosened within the space of about eight years in favour of mining interests in West Scotland. Graves was badly treated by business associates and quarrels about the way this was done led to blows and court appearances. The song that made Graves and Peel famous was written largely by accident. The family lived at Gatesbridge House, across the road from the Rising Sun (now the Oddfellows Arms). In the living-room of the house, on the left of the main entrance, Graves’ fourth child and eldest son, born in 1830, was being sung to sleep by his grandmother one evening in the winter of 1832. The tune used was a traditional Scottish air Bonnie Annie or Canny Annie or Where will Bonnie Annie lie?. One of the child’s elder sisters came into the room and asked what the tune was: this enquiry, and the answer, roused

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Graves’ attention and he began to fit words to it in the form of a eulogy to John Peel .

There is some evidence that Graves and Peel worked on the text together at one stage, but its first public performance, allegedly in the bar of the Rising Sun, produced a mixture of

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smiles and tears from Peel, and from Graves the comment “By Jove, Peel, you’ll be sung when we’re both run to earth.” Subsequently, the song was sung and even written down in many different forms. There are two reasons for the different versions. Initially, it was learned from singers to listeners, some of whom changed words by accident or by design based on mistaken romanticism. It was 34 years after Graves’ original composition that a copyright was taken out on the song by a Carlisle publisher, Mr George Coward, for inclusion in his Songs and Ballads of Cumberland, and Graves agreed to the anglicising of the text, which had originally been set down in the Cumbrian dialect. At that time Graves had been living in Tasmania for over 30 years and Peel had been dead for twelve years. Secondly, when Graves learned of the success of the song, he supplied amendments to it. Facsimiles of the ‘original’ or ‘authentic’ versions of the text are covered in marginal jottings and footnotes. One thing is certain, and is stated in a foreword by Viscount Ullswater to Hugh Machell’s book John Peel, “John Woodcock Graves and John Peel each made the other. John Peel without Graves’ song would have remained a memory and a hero to Cumbrians only, and to the world beyond - nothing. Graves’ turn for versification would, without his hero, have blushed unseen. The song made the man and the man made the song.” The events that were to place D’ye ken John Peel in the song books and minds of the nation were its singing by William Metcalfe, choirmaster at Carlisle Cathedral, at a charity dinner in London in 1869. Metcalfe’s appearance at this occasion was in defiance of the Dean and Chapter. His ‘insurance’ was the sale of copies of the song to a large well-to-do audience. The seal was set on this publicity by Metcalfe’s performance of the work before the Prince of Wales in 1874. Furthermore, the tune had been incorporated in the 1860s into the regimental march of the 34th Cumberland

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Regiment, and is still retained as part of the march of the present-day King’s Own Royal Border Regiment. Graves’ subsequent and highly-chequered career in Tasmania is fit material for a book in itself. One of the last local notes made about ‘this queer, ill-tempered genius’ from Wigton and Caldbeck concerns the start of his family’s journey of emigration to Tasmania. By 1833 Graves was virtually penniless. He could not afford the coach fare to Penrith. The family travelled in a cart that provided transport for people and for goods. There can be little doubt that the Graves family left Britain to get away from the debts and loss of all possessions that were the result of misjudgements and inconstancy of purpose in his business dealings. In Tasmania, a territory about the size of Wales, there was to be a new beginning based on fertile soil, mineral wealth and an equable climate. In fact, Graves was running away not from circumstances but from himself and inevitably he exported his problems with him. Mistakenly, he believed that he would be entitled to a free grant of Government land and, when the grant was refused, Graves began a running battle with officialdom. The violent tone and persistence of his arguments resulted in Government having him detained and certified insane. Although he soon overcame this difficulty, Graves began a search for the mythical crock of gold that lay at the end of so many of the developing industries of Tasmania. One of these excursions lasted for three years and during this time his family seem to have received no support from him at all. His splendid wife held the family together, obtained two teaching posts which occupied her from nine o’clock in the morning till 6 pm and took in washing. For all his mistreatment of them, Graves’ family often expressed good opinion of him and his two sons, one a leading lawyer and the other a successful business man in the timber

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trade, provided him with a cottage home and a pension to the end of his days. Before the end of his life, Graves had ceased to take on all comers and had achieved a certain respect and fame as the composer of one of the most popular songs in the English language. And that just about sums it up. The man made the song, and the song made the man.

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JULIA MARLOWE (1866-1950)

ulia Marlowe was baptised in Caldbeck Church on 23rd September, l866, as Sarah Frances Frost. She was the

daughter of the village clogger and shoemaker, who lived in a tiny cottage on the road below the present Caldbeck school.

Cottage on Tutehill, Caldbeck, in 1926. A disagreement with a customer in his clogger shop, and a subsequent blow on the head which stunned the man, resulted in John Frost and his family doing a ‘moonlight flit’, as he was afraid of the consequences of his action. Sarah Frances was about five years old at the: time. The family landed in America, lived in Kansas and Ohio, and finally settled in Cincinnati. The girl attended school until the age of 12, when she joined a juvenile opera company, performing in light operas, such as H.M.S. Pinafore, under the name of Frances Brough.

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Miss Frost then devoted three years to the study of Shakespeare’s plays, and changed her name again, to Julia Marlowe, as she had a great admiration for Christopher Marlowe, the Elizabethan playwright. She knew a period of great success in the part of Juliet, followed by five years when all did not go well. Then again she played the famous heroine and endeared herself to all who saw her act. From then on she appeared regularly in the main Shakespearean female roles, and when she and Mr E .H. Sothern opened in a three week’s season at the Waldorf Theatre in London in 1907, she was already famed as “America’s most versatile actress”. Miss Marlowe was married first to an American actor, Robert Taber. Her second husband, Edward Sothern, with whom she acted in partnership for many years, was himself the son of a well-known London actor. The pair were particularly well known for their performances in The Merchant of Venice and The Taming of the Shrew. In the 1920s they returned to England and presented plays at Stratford-upon-Avon. From 1929 they lived in retirement in Switzerland. Edward Sothern died in 1933. It was recorded that in 1944 Miss Marlowe donated 12 trunks of costumes to a New York museum. She died at the age of 84 in a New York hotel, where she had lived in seclusion for a number of years, a wealthy lady, and a far cry from her humble origins in Caldbeck.

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SALLY IVINSON (1884-1967)

orn Sally Foster at Stapleton in 1884 she came from a farming family. She left school at 12 years old to work

with her parents, three sisters and two brothers on their two farms. She came to this district in 1908 to work on her uncle’s farm at Welton, and a year later came to Caldbeck to farm on her own account at Nether Row. A Caldbeck resident at that time remembered her driving down Ratten Row in a smart trap drawn by a glossy pony, and wearing a long-sleeved cream shirt, jodhpurs and a bowler hat.

A postcard of Grange View, Caldbeck.

She would attend church dressed in a smart navy suit with a beautiful cameo brooch and a fox fur. Sally was a born farmer, with a great love for animals. Her pony was called Ginger. She did her own buying at local cattle markets, the only lady present, holding her own among

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the men. She bred black-faced sheep and Galloway cattle, and kept greyhounds. She was also a great cat-lover, notably a ginger called Tommy, who she referred to as Mother’s Boy. She is remembered for tying a kipper to the back step of her pony trap and driving round the neighbouring farms looking for Tommy and his contemporaries when they strayed from home.

Mrs Sally Ivinson Sally milked by hand and sheared her own sheep, her only help being her elderly Aunt Mary. Getting-up time was 5.30 am and she worked till dark. Aunt Mary smoked a pipe, and the story goes she once dropped it into a pan of boiling jam and was caught fishing around in the jam trying to find it!

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In 1922, Sally married Joseph Ivinson, son of William Ivinson, the manufacturer of the woollen cloth from which John Peel’s ‘coat so grey’ was made. They farmed at Grange View, which was to be Sally’s home for the rest of her life. After her husband’s death in 1952, Sally let part of her land, but kept working on the bigger share of it until increasing infirmity from rheumatism forced her to retire. When asked her age, Sally always replied, “As old as me tongue and a laal bit older than me teeth.” During a spell in the Cumberland Infirmary, she was visited by the Rector of the parish, who had been asked by the nurses to try to persuade Sally to take off her greasy old cap, from which up to this point she had refused to be parted. Her reply to his request was that if he would shave off “that growth of hair” on his chin, she would take off her cap! (The cap stayed put.) Sally was buried in a family grave at Stapleton, and bequeathed £100 to the church there for repairs to the windows.

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FRED BARTLE (1884-1944)

red Bartle’s story is one of the heyday and, eventually, the decline of the interest of an aristocratic family in rural

affairs. Their involvement was in the social life of an upland community and, particularly, in activity centred on the shooting season. It has become popular in the years since the Second World War to decry the connexion between titled landowners and the people who served them, but country folk who remember the bustle and excitement of days on the fells or entertainments in village halls are not so sure. The presence and influence of the element in society that employed men like Fred Bartle was highly valued before the days of entertainment and mobility on a mass scale. Well organised and well funded diversions from the routine of ordinary life were always welcome and the extra income earned from servicing major events was not to be sneezed at. Fred’s account is thus one told by a man who looked at this scene from the inside outwards. He came to Caldbeck from Cockermouth on his appointment as gamekeeper to the Leconfield Estates. This valued opportunity did not pay very well initially: the weekly wage of £1 had to be balanced against an outgoing of 21 shillings (£1.05) for board and lodging at Calebrack Farm. Like Dickens’ Micawber, Fred discovered that a few pence in excess of outgoings represented happiness; a few pence the other way spelled misery. The problem, in Fred’s case, was solved by catching rabbits. (The market-place price of this abundant source of meat, that was an important element in the diet of many a rural family, was 6d, i.e. 2½p.) The job of a gamekeeper on what was essentially a grousemoor

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was to take every step that would lead to the readiness by mid-August of a large healthy population of birds. The keeper had to know his land thoroughly and use it efficiently in terms of production. Not long after a season closed, work began on conditioning heather, including some burning off, to promote fresh growth that would sustain grouse in the breeding and rearing season to come. Keeping down predators and having a watchful eye for trespassers, especially of the poaching variety, was important too.

Fred Bartle Gamekeepers were judged strictly by results and perhaps Fred was fortunate in that during the period between the two World Wars, the British climate, though colder in winter, was warmer and drier in summer than it is nowadays. Disease among grouse flocks was less prevalent: Fred was clearly successful and his career prospered. About the time of Fred’s appointment Lord Leconfield bought Fellside Mansion from the Jennings family. The property included three cottages, one of which was for the gamekeeper and so Fred took advantage of the opportunity provided by a home and married Florence Hemingway, who lived at the Mill Inn, Mungrisdale. To have a family, a roof overhead, a satisfying job and an adequate income, was a lot

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more than many men achieved between the Wars. Fellside Mansion was in part a holiday residence for Lady Leconfield and was also the centre - known technically as the shooting box - for grousemoor sport. Preparations for shooting began months in advance of the season. Butts were built up for the Guns to stand in and no measure was neglected that would make parties successful and contented. Fred would act as a freelance employment agency and visit local farms to reach agreements that brought in sufficient beaters, loaders and servants of the shoot in general. On the morning of a shoot, Lord Leconfield would arrive in his Rolls Royce and Lady Leconfield travelled in her Daimler, both chauffeur-driven, to be joined by friends and guests. Horses and ponies from local farms and stables provided the means of access to shooting butts on the fell. A day’s hire of a horse cost six shillings (30p) and, bearing in mind that a farm worker’s wage was about 18 shillings a week in the early 1920s, the income was most welcome. Special arrangements had to be made for the mount to carry Lady Leconfield, for she was well over six feet tall. She preferred a part-blood horse owned by a local man, Billy Winder. Lunches served at the butts were a remarkable combination of quantity and elegance. The Guns and accompanying guests were provided for out of hampers brought from Cockermouth Castle, which was the Leconfield’s home in Cumberland. The beaters, loaders and other keepers ate large teacakes with a filling of home-cooked ham prepared in her wash-boiler by Mrs Bartle. On top of this, there was free beer all round. No wonder that there was competition for places in the Guns’ support team.

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Lord and Lady Leconfield at Petworth.

One year, after the food caravan had left Fellside, it was discovered that the beaters’ and loaders’ lunches had been left behind. The shock of this discovery drove from the minds of the only help at hand the realisation that the food should have been transferred from heavy wooden boxes, made necessary by horse-drawn sledge transport, to something lighter. Three ladies, Mrs Dalton, Mrs Bartle and Ida, her daughter, took the boxes by their rope handles and carried them from Fellside over High Pike to huts on Miller Moss. It was a truly amazing feat: the distance, over rough ground, is close on four miles. The ladies never let on, until long after, about the original omission and their arrival at Miller Moss coincided almost exactly with the return of the men from the moor. All that the men knew was that their meal was on hand; there would have been ructions if it had not been. In these days, especially with

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four-wheeled farm bikes and mobile phones, such an act of heroism would be unheard of. Rural life and hard times often went together. People who experienced both seldom look back in anger at the times. Heather moors were a glorious sight in the days when growths were encouraged and controlled in the interests of grouse shooting. With the decline of the sport such sights are much less common. A good deal of the social life at Fellside and in Caldbeck revolved around the personality of Fred Bartle. We have already seen that he was, and had to be, a good organiser. A major event in the summer season was Caldbeck Sports and he was its initiator and managing spirit. Together with his wife, Fred ran a series of garden fetes at Fellside Mansion. These were in aid of the local Nursing Association and, at a yearly subscription of five shillings (25p), there were many members. In reality, the events were a village show, with a baking competition, a beautiful babies display and a range of other exhibits seen against the fine gardens of the Mansion. These were the work of a full-time gardener, John Dalton. Even in this area, Fred had a hand in the planning and in the ordering of seeds necessary to the implementation of the joint schemes. Fete days ended with a Grand Dance in Caldbeck Parish Hall and one of the attractions was the presence of Lady Leconfield. Owing to her height the oil lamps which lit the hall in those days had to be raised so that she could pass beneath them. The chance of dancing with such a striking partner gave rise to competition among local men to take her hand. During the Second World War, dances were organised on Saturday nights with the income going to buy

parcels for local servicemen. Fred’s co-workers were Charlie Dalton and Walter Stott. In his day, whist drives and hunt balls came alike to his experience and organising ability.

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Goodwill can be exploited of course, and Fred long remembered the example of a local farmer and acquaintance who let it be known that an illness was keeping him in bed and away from a harvest that was ready to be gathered. Fred enlisted the help of neighbours, the cereal crop was cut and stacked in a field on Bell Moor. At that stage the invalid experienced a miraculous cure, got out of bed and had the thresher at work on the following day.

Clipping Day at Woodhall, 1943. Fred Bartle third from right.

A local event that has passed into history was Clipping Day at Woodhall, which ran the greatest number of sheep on farm and fell. A photograph taken by the national journal, Hulton’s Picture Post,and published in August 1943, shows that 21 men, shearers and handlers, took part. A good shearer could take the fleece off a sheep in about six minutes and would deal with 60 or 70 sheep in a day. Work on this scale demanded good food and plenty of it and when the day was over a meal that was nothing short of a

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banquet was provided. Fred Bartle’s job at this stage of the programme was an honoured one: he carved the meat. That may not sound much in these days of supermarket cutlets, but Fred’s contribution was to cut up two roasted Herdwick shearlings. A combination of hunger and carver’s skill left nothing to be desired and nothing on the dishes. Lady Leconfield spent more time at Fellside than did her husband. In addition to the events of the summer and of the shooting season, there were grand Christmas parties for the local children who, sixty and seventy years on, remember them for their splendour and the generosity of their hostess. Conjurors and ‘magic lantern’ shows provided many a child with a glimpse into wonderland. During the Second World War, the Mansion was lent to friends, including the Bonham Carter family, one of whom, Cressida, spent her honeymoon there in 1939. Sadly, the Leconfields had no children of their own and adopted a boy, Peter, and a girl, Elizabeth, who of course took the family name of Wyndham. Under inheritance law they could not adopt the title, so that when Lord Leconfield died in 1952 the estates passed to his nephew, Lord Egremont. Fellside Mansion was sold in 1954 and, after passing through the hands of two other owners, was bought by Cumbria County Council to be run as a centre for outdoor pursuits. Local people lost a touch of glamour but their loss has been the gain of many much younger citizens

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Dr MABEL BARKER (1886-1961)

abel Barker came to live in Caldbeck in 1926 when she was already a distinguished academic, an experienced

lecturer in the subject of Regional Studies and a leading exponent in the sport of rock-climbing. For two or three years prior to 1926 she had studied at Montpellier University in the south of France. Her subject, in which she was awarded a D.Litt., was The Use of Environmental Geography for Education. The central theme was the idea and, in Mabel’s case, the conviction, that both students and society would benefit if children learned the various branches of natural science and history by relating these bodies of knowledge to their communities, their surroundings and their physical experiences. During the First World War, Mabel had been in close touch with refugees from battle areas and, like many intellectuals of the period, she had become convinced that changes in society that were necessary to avoid further catastrophic conflict would best start with radical changes in educational systems. The Friar Row school Mabel was never one to leave her ideas untried, and in 1926 a combination of luck and her own powers of persuasion provided an opportunity to make a start. She was successful in attracting the support of Mr Wilkinson of Sebergham Castle who owned several cottages adjoining the derelict mill in Friar Row, Caldbeck. He gave the property to Mabel but she still needed money for its renovation and conversion into premises that would form a part day, part boarding school. The finance came in the form of a legacy of £3,000 willed to Mabel by one of the aunts with whom she had gone to live, her mother

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having died when Mabel was ten years old. By the values of the 1990s this legacy was worth something like £300,000. The school opened on a modest scale, but gradually expanded. Boys as young as five were admitted both to the boarding house and the day school and girls of up to the usual school-leaving age came in on a daily basis. Some subjects were taught up to advanced level in terms of the ages of the pupils: learning was backed by experience gained in the woods and fields and on the river banks and fells around Caldbeck. In those days Parsons Park consisted of broad-leaved woodlands and provided a ready-made open-air classroom. Mabel had a junior partner, Gertrude Walmsley, who taught mathematics, but the school time-table catered little for the subject. There was no preparation for formal examinations in the usual school subjects unless parents specifically asked for it. Gertrude also taught domestic science, a subject in which, frankly, she had little skill herself. One of the girls taught cooking by Gertrude remarked drily, not long ago, that her class knew very well that their efforts had better be good. They would be eating them at midday. A school as unconventional as Friar Row must have attracted a good deal of comment locally, not all of it complimentary, but it made a lasting impression on pupils who went there. Some 60 years on the powerful personality of its principal is still remembered in terms of her enthusiasm and teaching ability. She was capable of bringing subjects to life and generating interest that far outlasted the detailed memory of a discipline. Mabel Barker was a powerful influence in the Caldbeck community. She joined the Women’s Institute and was President in 1934-36 and again in 1937. She was sensitive to the relationships that connected local people to lifestyles in which they may have had little choice, but that did not stop her from recommending change where she thought it was

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necessary. Inevitably, as a strong character, she found that the community was often in two minds about her. In 1928 she founded the Caldbeck Drama Group. On stage she had most of the attributes that make for success as an actress. Although not good looking in the classical sense, her appearance was striking, she was tall, moved gracefully, had a strong voice backed by clear diction and above all she had a personality that commanded attention. She usually selected plays with a strong dramatic element and the Group entered many times for festivals in the county. These were a popular form of entertainment in the days before television, and competitive events involving independent adjudication were supported by large audiences. Mabel could not suffer gladly either players who, she thought, could do better or commentators whose opinions she did not share. At one festival an adjudicator criticised a female lead, in a play staged by Mabel, on the grounds that her make-up was too heavy, thus presenting a rosy-cheeked image that was out of character. In fact, the girl had a naturally strong colouring and was not wearing make-up at all. Mabel, in the auditorium, stood up as soon as the man had got the words out of his mouth and delivered an uncompromising correction. Her comments on the performance of members of casts could be brusque although everyone knew that they overlaid a sympathetic nature. She was quite capable of sharply criticising even a young part player for fluffing lines at a rehearsal and then, seeing the child upset, of putting her arm round young shoulders to soothe hurt feelings. One of her major achievements was the writing, organisation and presentation of a pageant based on a history of Caldbeck from pre-Roman times up to the 20th century. This required the assembling and direction of a large cast, clothed and equipped to suit periods spanning some 2,000 years. Caldbeck folk, including some who felt that they had

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little aptitude and still less inclination to take part, nonetheless found themselves recruited to take part in a procession as the pageant wound its way up the hills and along the roads in the village. Another theatre event in the open, still remembered by some of the cast and the audience, was a performance of Midsummer Night’s Dream. Mabel was also an enthusiastic participant in Scottish Folk Dancing and took part in classes at Cockermouth Castle. Mabel was once asked to judge a fancy-dress competition being held in the Parish Hall. Although not so popular nowadays, such events were at one time the subject of very careful preparation and keen competition. An important feature was the choice by entrants of the characters they were to represent: success was likely if the competitor had more than a passing resemblance to the original. It was probably on this basis that some friends of a local man urged him to appear as The Poacher. Dressed in the kind of coat favoured by the trade, face part hidden by a beard of sheep’s wool and carrying some snares and a couple of gutted rabbits on his arm, the competitor entered the parade circle accompanied by a lemon-coloured whippet. The dog was a favourite companion and could be relied on to walk at heel. Mabel watched the procession carefully, awarded first prize to The Poacher and then picked up the whippet, embraced it warmly and declared it to be “the most handsome female in the room.” Coming on top of the decision about the first prize, this pronouncement was less than enthusiastically received by a number of good-looking ladies who had put a lot of effort into their own appearances.

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Dr Mabel Barker. Portrait by G. E. Gascoigne, 1938.

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Mabel Barker’s association with outdoor life inevitably led to concern for animals and care for them in ones and twos even though natural populations far outstripped the numbers that she could have nurtured. Her dividing line between domestic and wild creatures was often blurred and while she kept black Labradors and black retrievers on more-or-less conventional terms in her home for years, the dogs shared her affections with birds and mammals from time to time. Most villages have a resident or two who are known for looking after injured or orphaned creatures and for many years Mabel took in non-paying guests from the Caldbeck area. Nestlings were brought to her and cared for until they were ready to be returned to the wild and one, a jackdaw named Johnnie, realised that it was on to a good thing and stayed to become a pet. Not all these relationships were completely harmonious and Mabel had a brief, rather bloody experience with a pet badger named Judy who lived in the home of the village Doctor. Judy was an orphan who was taken into care, lost her fear of humans to a large extent and lived a contented domestic life while she was growing up. Attempts to return her to the sett were unsuccessful: she simply and immediately returned to the home where she had been brought up before the Doctor, who had taken her back to the sett she came from, could retrace his own steps. Once, when the Doctor was on holiday, Judy was placed in Mabel’s care during the vacation. Failing to recognise Mabel and her home as an adequate substitute for the real thing, Judy hid under a chair in the corner. Eventually Mabel decided that Judy needed food and exercise and put her hand under the chair in an attempt to bring the badger out. Judy reacted to the intrusion in the only way she knew. When the Doctor returned, Mabel had a stitched and bandaged hand as a memento of the association.

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Judy had an interesting subsequent history. Given to London Zoo, she mated with a captive badger boar and gave birth to cubs. Such occurrences are rare: female badgers do give birth in captivity, but usually as a result of delay, caused by stress of capture, in development of an egg fertilised in the wild. Judy’s domestic experience had freed her from the usual inhibition. Mabel retained an interest in small creatures to the end of her life Even when she was terminally ill she could display a bowl of tadpoles being reared on a nutritious, if unusual, diet of tinned cat food. Although walking unsteadily. she insisted on showing some visitors the presence of a pair of spotted flycatchers nesting in the angle of an old fence at the bottom of her garden. The last 20 years By the time that she had reached her early fifties, Mabel Barker had registered major achievements, both intellectually and physically, in fields which in those days were thought of as being preserves for men. Some acquaintances thought that this was because she was an eccentric, deliberately concentrating on unusual pursuits and drawing attention to them by being personally unconventional. Friends who knew her better were aware that her aims, and indeed her passions, were genuine. There was undoubtedly an element of eccentricity in her make-up, but it was minor and never affected her determination to reach life-long objectives. Her vision of a form of education that would modify accepted patterns was no convenient invention. It was borne at least partly out of the deep concern -- of many thinkers of the time -- at the national and social failures that had led to the First World War. It was a short step from considering these events to proposing changes in education and society that would prevent a recurrence of armed conflict between nations.

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If Mabel’s private library had been merely a physical prop to an eccentric lifestyle, she would have abandoned it when her professional career closed. In fact, Mabel kept all her books long after many of her possessions had gone. She was in contact with literature, physically and intellectually, to the end. The walls of her cottage home were stacked with books, she would often refer to one or another and knew exactly where to put her hand on any of them. Mabel’s climbing achievements are in the record. No doubt many of them have been surpassed by young women, equipped with modern aids and encouraged by knowledge of established routes, but Mabel undoubtedly led where others followed. There is not, and never has been, room on the crags for displays of eccentricity. The closure of the Friar Row School, precipitated by the start of the Second World War in l939, was a blow to its founder and principal. Several of the staff had to leave hurriedly before the borders of European countries were sealed for nearly six years. At first, Mabel reacted as she had done to the beginning of the 1914 - 1918 War, and enrolled as a nurse at the Garlands Hospital, Carlisle. Subsequently she was appointed Chemistry Mistress at Peterborough High School. This was to be her last teaching post and at the end of the War she retired from professional life. Her pupils took much the same view of her as students down the years had done. Still active in climbing, she was delighted by the presentation to her of a cartoon, drawn by a colleague, portraying Mabel negotiating a loop of rope attached by its ends to a blackboard. She was extremely proud of this: its viewing by visitors was obligatory and it remains a treasured possession of the Barker family. After retirement Mabel settled down to preparing the manuscripts of books on a History of Caldbeck and the Mills of Caldbeck. Sadly these drafts were accidentally destroyed and

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never replaced. A field plan of Caldbeck was prepared under her instruction and was of great interest historically but this too never received the treatment in a copied and permanent form that it deserved. She had never set any store by the usual domestic possessions. Her equipment was simple and furniture was sparse in the extreme. She was very grateful to a kindly neighbour who voluntarily kept her home in order and an eye on her meals, although tidiness itself had no appeal to her. One day, Mabel drove with her brother Arnold along the fell-bottom road that passes Carrock Fell. At the base of the crag that she knew well, Mabel spotted a group of young men who were discussing its possibilities as a climb. At her request, Arnold stopped the car and Mabel went over to the group, putting to them the proposition that she should lead. Probably out of surprise more than anything else, the young men agreed. When the climb and return had been successfully completed, Mabel got back into the car and said quietly “I think that will be my last.” And so it was. In due time, Arnold took her ashes and put them at the foot of the Carrock crag. It was a fitting and final gesture and tribute.

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PEARSON DALTON (1897-1974)

earson Dalton was born at Bonners (a small farm half a mile from Fellside), one of the three sons and one daughter

of Richard and Mary Dalton. When he was seven years old the family moved to Fellside Cottage. Leaving school at the age of fourteen, Pearson worked locally before going to Skiddaw House in 1922 on a month’s trial, and stayed there for the rest of his working life.

Skiddaw House. Drawing by D. G. Wilde.

Skiddaw House, once described as the loneliest house in England, was formerly a shooting lodge for the Leconfield Estates. It stands in the 3,000 acres of Skiddaw Forest, a bleak,

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treeless terrain, at least four miles hard walking distance from the nearest habitation. At that time Skiddaw House was not one house but several, with the resident game- keeper living in one and the shepherd, with whom Pearson lodged, in another. From the beginning he set the pattern of his working life that he would continue until the day he retired, walking the eight miles to his sister’s cottage in Fellside (accompanied always by his dogs) on a Saturday morning and then on Monday morning making his way back to Skiddaw House, carrying necessary provisions on his back. During his weekends at Fellside he was a keen follower of the Blencathra Foxhounds and local hound trails. On many a Saturday night he would stride the extra two miles to Caldbeck (if he didn’t get a lift) for his ‘baccy’, his pint and a game or two of dominoes at the Oddfellows Arms and then he would walk home again! (Neighbours at Fellside still remember the sound of his hob-nail boots ringing on the road long before he came into view). He was also a keen supporter of Carlisle United Football Club and would go to as many home matches as he could. In 1957 Skiddaw Forest was bought by Mr. Waugh of Mirkholme when the Leconfield Estate was broken up. Pearson continued to live at Skiddaw House alone apart from his dogs, his cat and his goat which he kept for milk. It may sound a Spartan existence but he was kept busy with his sheep, garden, books and wireless. When Mr Waugh took over the 1,000 hefted Swaledale sheep he also took over Pearson and considered it the “best day’s work I have ever done”. In Pearson he had a true fell man and a shepherd of the old school. He knew his sheep as individuals, their breeding and characteristics. He never used mechanical shearing machines but could clip 80 to 90 sheep a day by hand. He knew he could rely on the sheep in his care to keep him informed of imminent bad weather. His days began

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early and ended late, especially at lambing time and summer and he knew every foot of his isolated domain. Asked why he had never married, his answer was that he had never had time and denied ever feeling lonely spending much of his life in such an isolated spot - indeed there were many visitors to Skiddaw House, passing hikers and walkers, who were treated to Pearson’s hospitality, including Alfred Wainwright, author of the famous Lakeland mountain guidebooks, who visited him on several occasions.

Pearson Dalton with his dogs at Fellside.

On one occasion he was visited by another great local character, John Coulthard of Potts Ghyll, who walked a billy goat from his home all the way to Skiddaw House for the purpose of mating it with the nanny. This jaunt began in

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daylight but it was dark by the time he arrived (Pearson could hear the bell around the goat’s neck from a great distance). John then did the return walk back to Potts Ghyll in the dark! In 1969 Pearson was 72 years old and still working as hard as ever but concern about him being alone at Skiddaw House if anything should happen to him eventually prompted his retirement. In November of that year, at the Shepherd’s Meet at the Sun Inn, Bassenthwaite, he was presented with a fireside chair to replace his old one and a cheque to mark his retirement by Johnny Richardson, another famous local and huntsman of the Blencathra Foxhounds. In his well earned retirement he continued to enjoy all his old pleasures, hunting, houndtrailing, football, his pipe and his Saturday nights at the pub and kept himself busy in his garden and by mole catching for his farming neighbours. Pearson died on 24th May 1974 at the age of 77 and is buried with his family in Caldbeck churchyard. For 77 years Pearson Dalton lived and worked in a way that has completely disappeared - no one today would consider spending so much time alone in the ‘middle of nowhere’ with only animals for company. His life was one of service in a harsh environment, committed to the sheep in his care, living his life simply and enjoying simple pleasures - a very contented man.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The authors gratefully acknowledge written and verbal contributions from Caldbeck folk and from relatives and friends of the characters described herein. Without generous help from these sources the book could not have been written Except where otherwise credited, the illustrations are from material in the Local History Society's archives. Permission to reproduce the illustrations on the following pages is acknowledged: p. 5 Lord Inglewood, Hutton-in-the-Forest, Penrith p.13 Roger and Simon Robson, Ivegill, Publishers of Inside Hype, a periodical review of Cumberland and Westmorland Wrestling p.21 Charles Thurnam & Sons Ltd, 26-32 Lonsdale Street, Carlisle p.33 (Publishers of) Hunting, November 1994, p * p.35 Hulton's Picture Post, August 1943 p.41 The Barker family, Caldbeck

Notes on tail-pieces Detail from John Peel's gravestone in Caldbeck churchyard p.8 Coin inscribed "M.Robinson" p.11 Wrestlers at Grasmere Sports (?) p.17 * Julia Marlowe and Edward Sothern in Romeo and Juliet p.26 Driving down Ratten Row. p.29 "..a jackdaw named Johnnie..." p.45 CONTRIBUTORS Nan Savage (John Peel); Ursula Banister (Mary Harrison); Diana Greenwood (The Richardson Wrestlers); Graham Wilde (John Woodcock Graves, Dr Mabel Barker); Margaret Hellon (Julia Marlowe, Sally Ivinson); Ida Todhunter and Graham Wilde (Fred Bartle); Jean Pears (Pearson Dalton) PRODUCTION TEAM Ursula Banister, Coryn Clarke, Barbara & John Price, Graham Wilde

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