A new property restoration project in Pendle,
Lancashire, provided an opportunity to visit the neighbouring, ancient district
of Craven in Yorkshire, where some of my family originate.
Craven is an area of contrasting and
sometimes mysterious rugged valleys or Dales. A patchwork of fields bordered
with stone walls, woodland, heather clad moors and waterways, punctuated by
towns. The former boundaries stretched from Brad (Broad) ford with its small
beck (local dialect for a stream) and nearby Bingley, in the south to the
hamlet of Oughtershaw in the far northern Dales. The precise meaning of the
word Craven is unknown. Believed to mean 'a place where wild garlic grows', or
possibly a 'rocky area', it is found in parallel Celtic languages, such as
Welsh. Many invaders went on to leave their mark on the district.
Communities grew through the Middle Ages,
largely 'on the back' of the vital commodity of sheep fleeces and made Craven a
powerhouse of commerce. The industrial boom and bust continued at a heady pace
and a network of canals and later railways bore into many of the once isolated
dales ~ once only accessible on foot, or possibly the humble pack horse and
stage coach. Today, the lifeblood of north Craven remains in farming, involving
dairy cattle and sheep. South of Skipton, known as the Gateway of the Dales,
the area becomes more built up, with pockets of green.
Innovative enterprise and the arts continue
to flourish from the sometimes gritty and wild Dales, a landscape sometimes as
hard as the stones that were quarried to construct most of the
buildings. Perhaps this situation could explain why the hardy inhabitants
are generally known to take a no nonsense approach, 'calling a spade, a spade'!
The trip was a time to reflect on an idyllic,
if rather eccentric childhood, growing up in two very different parts of
Airedale. Firstly, living in Riddlesden, a sprawling, semi urban settlement
high above Keighley; then at a house, a stone's throw away from the Leeds and
Liverpool Canal at rural Gargrave, nestled between rolling hills, several miles
from the market town of Skipton.
A road along from Riddlesden, winds over
gentle hills and down into Bolton Abbey in Wharfedale (pictured above). Here,
one can explore the majestic twelfth century priory and surrounding unspoilt
Yorkshire seat of the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. A little distance from
the village in a nook is the charming wooden boarded station; part of the steam
railway where my parents and I volunteered in the 1990's. We joined some
friendly members of staff for a pleasant afternoon tea at the station café. In
Skipton, we made an impromptu visit to the sturdy, sand stone building of
Skipton Antiques and Collectors Centre, on Cavendish Street, meeting with old
friends, who I'd worked with as a teenager. It was like stepping back in time,
albeit in a positive way and we reminisced about the funny things that happened
there.
My mother's family, the Crawshaw Simpsons
resided in Wharfedale, often heralded as one of the most attractive Dales. The
River Wharfe weaves through the heart of the dale ~ Wharfe means 'winding
river' in the Celtic tongue. Around the early 20th century, the
family ran the Tennant's Arms, a hostelry at Kilnsey, beside the landmark rocky
Crag and later moved to Grassington, the primary town in Wharfedale. Some of
the Simpson's personal possessions are now kept on board the houseboat.
In life there are misconceptions, for example
certain impressions about the fabled 'grim north'. If you do visit Craven
and the surrounding region, you can sure of a warm welcome! More articles about
Craven to follow.
Chris
No comments:
Post a Comment