Ramble No. 1

In the early part of the spring of 1870, myself and a friend, who frequently accompanies me in rambles, resolved to visit the slopes of Liversedge, periodically for the purpose of examining the old houses dotted thereon, and also to collect specimens relating to its natural history which might fall in our way.

We started on Saturday afternoon, April the 30th, a day most convenient to us, but had only just reached the borders of the township when we were overtaken by a storm, and were reluctantly compelled to direct our steps homewards. No other opportunity offered itself, as we had “other fields and pastures new” to explore during the spring and summer months, until the autumn of the year, and, in the month of September just ended, we recommenced our strolls, the aspect of the weather being gloomy and threatening. Nothing daunted, we started, and I should like to have extended my invitation, and have said:

“Come, my companions, ye who feel the charms
Of nature and the year, come, let us stray
Where chance or fancy leads our roving walk.”

This, however, I did not do, but have culled from my notebook a few sketches, which will probably prove interesting, and induce others to visit the woods, lanes, fields and old haunts of the localities in which they live, and treasure up anything relating to their history, for every Englishman ought to be well acquainted with our island home, more especially that portion in which he dwells.

Passing rapidly through Heckmondwike, we took the direction of the railway station and proceeded down Smithies Lane and soon arrived at the beck or rivulet termed the Spen, which is sort of, though not altogether, a natural boundary between the townships of Heckmondwike and Liversedge.

Smithies is a small hamlet, and is, and has been for a long period, one of the seats of the carpets, but probably took its name from the ironworks having existed there in the ings or meadow ground adjoining the brook; for dross and other remains of them have from time to time turned up there. If I might hazard an opinion, it is not unlikely that the Deightons of Staincliffe Hall, who were extensive ironmasters in the seventeenth century, were the proprietors, ironstone being one of the products of Liversedge; and at this period the district would be well wooded, and furnish the material for the smelting of the ore, as coal for that purpose was not used until a much later period. At this point the beck formerly was very circuitous, as we still may see the marks on the surface of the ground near to it.

Turning to our left, we ascended the brow, sometimes called Barker’s brow, a family still remembered by our old inhabitants, and who were extensive proprietors in Liversedge and Heckmondwike, and early connected with its carpet and other trades. Stepping up the A B C steps, a point familiarly known by that infantile name, we arrived on the crest of the brow, and from it a magnificent prospect opens out, in a semi-circular form, of a great variety of scenery. To the right the woods of Hopton and Whitley, Thornhill Edge and the intermediate valley of the Calder, meet the eye and passing from thence to Boothroyd Church, top of Dewsbury Moor, Kilpin Hill, Staincliffe and stretching further, White Lee, Barley Hills, Castle House Hill, Gomersal, the valley near Cleckheaton and the range of hills stretching towards Low Moor, present scenery of an agreeably diversified character. In the foreground, in a westerly direction, we have Spring House, Millbridge, Littletown and its elegant church conspicuous on the landscape. Hightown and other objects of interest; indeed on every side much to delight both the lover of Nature and art. Whilst engaged in admiring the landscape before us, the aspect of the sky foretold a coming storm, and the flocks of starlings, locally known as shepsters, and the sparrows sought a retreat in the trees and hedgerows.

“Silent was the spot on which we stood,
And then, with shrilly softness there trilled forth
The few clear notes of sudden singing robin,
That made the silence but the surer seem.”

I thought of Elliott’s exclamation when he says:

“They notes sweet, robin, soft as dew,
Heard soon or late are dear to me,
To music I could bid adieu,
But not to thee.”

Hastening on we soon arrived at the Park Farm, now the property and in the occupation of Mr. Joseph Whitworth, forming the extreme boundary of the hall domain in connection formerly with the family of the Neviles of Liversedge Hall. Since the time of the Neviles, this property has had several owners, but the principal incident relating to it is that one of our earliest carpet manufacturers resided there. This was Mr. John North, and the building in which were fixed his looms, has this summer been converted into a modern dwelling-house. He was one of the originators and principal supporters of the Lower, or now Westgate Congregational Chapel, Liversedge, just outside the borders of Heckmondwike, built in the year 1786, the present one in 1865/6, on the site of the former building.

The farm house is a large and commodious residence, but presents nothing either on either the exterior or in the interior of a particularly interesting nature, though the view from it down the valley of the Spen is very fine. The fields surrounding are in a high state of cultivation and very productive under the hands of Mr. Whitworth, whom I consider a model farmer for this district. The names of the fields are somewhat significant, and amongst them I may mention those of the Lathe Close, Bee Bank, Honey Pot, Bull Close and House Bank. The land is rich in coal, and an extensive colliery company is now at work bringing up to the surface large quantities of that valuable mineral from the lower or deep coal measures.

The loveliness of the departure of summer being gone, the floral world furnished few of her beauties, though the graceful harebell nodded here and there and the convolvulus minor trailed her pretty tresses on the banks and in the hedgerows, opening and closing her petals with her accustomed regularity.

We paid a short visit to the Low Farm, occupied by Mr. William Gell, the property of Mr. Whitworth. Like his neighbour’s, his farm is well cultivated but the turnip crop was suffering severely from the fly, particularly the swedes, what are termed greystones not so much. The house presented nothing of a very ancient character; the oak bannisters and panels in some portions of the house were good. In fact it is an old grey farmstead, without date, its probable age about two hundred years. Some of the fields speak of the condition of the country at a former period, two being named the Upper and Lower Timber Close, showing that this portion of the township would be wooded before it was cleared for cultivation. There are also the Long and Little Owler, the Finching Dyke Field and, as is usual at farmsteads, the Lathe Close.

Rambling on we inspected the Lodge Farm, a building of considerable size, evidently formerly inhabited by a family of some note, and probably the date of its erection, the reign of Charles the First, its mullioned windows being similar to those of that time. The chambers are divided by tick oak planks and the spaces between them by lathe and plaster work. The lower rooms are in a dilapidated state, and the only object that struck our attention was a large wooden bread creel, a fixture in the house, descended to its successive tenants. It was furnished with oat cake, an article of diet too seldom used in these luxurious times. The farm is well cultivated and the farm yard fully stocked and littered with fine bred pigs. The fields here also have significant names, such as Near and Far Royd, Wood Nook, The Birks, Littlewood Close, Eight Days Work and Ings, etc. I could explain the meaning of these names, but must allow my readers to investigate themselves, as it is very interesting to trace the origin both of the names of our town’s houses and fields. Mr R. Reynolds of Heckmondwike is the tenant, and Mr. Freeman the owner of the lodge. The three farms mentioned are nearly equal in size, ranging up to sixty acres each.

We now cast a glance at Norris Hill, a modern building on the site of an old farm house. It was formerly the residence of Mr. Joseph Oates, a gentleman still well remembered, and whose family have long been connected with the blanket trade of Heckmondwike.

At the foot of the hill a neat chapel has just been opened for religious worship, erected at the sole expense of Mr. James Firth of Spring House, whose mansion and grounds adjoin it. It is a free place of worship, free seats and no collections, but whether the worshippers are known by any distinctive name or not I have not yet learnt, though I believe baptismal immersion forms a portion of their creed.

The twilight shadows were now setting in, which stopped the further progress of our ramble, but we, as we finish, however, took a peep at Doghouse, a cluster of old houses overlooking Heckmondwike, and from it you have the fullest and best view of that town. Tradition says it took its name from the hounds of the Nevilles of Liversedge Hall, being kennelled there, a not unlikely circumstance, as the surrounding country would be very suitable for the chase. The Congregationalists of the Upper Chapel, Heckmondwike, have a branch Sunday school and preaching room here, which has proved such a success that it is contemplated to erect another edifice, more adapted to the wants of the neighbourhood.

We reluctantly ceased our rambling, resolved to meet another day and the results of which will appear in a future number of this journal.