The forecasted rain had not arrived by the time we awoke, but the
television reports suggested it was still inevitable. We decided to head off on
a driving tour, to be enjoyed for the journey rather than concentrating on the
destination attractions along the way, given that we may find them rain
drenched, or ourselves so.
We headed north on the A6,
the route we will take when we finally leave Buxton for our next camp, but
checked into Chapel-en-le-Frith which announced itself on entry as the Capital
of the Peak District. Apart from driving through this surprisingly spread out
small town, and discovering it had a Morrison’s superstore and other sundry
shops and services to meet the everyday needs of the townsfolk, we were unable
to see why this claim to such title may be true. It certainly did not warrant
an entry into our rather out-dated "Book of British Towns.”
We turned east nor‘east, along the A6187, a route shown only as a
fat white road in our map, not a route to be taken when towing. The countryside
was delightful, dry-walled green fields spread across the rolling hills, and
then steeper country rising to Mam Tor, still dwarfed by higher peaks to come;
Win Hill at 464 metres ASL, Brown Knoll at 569 metres ASL and Kinder Scout of
636 metres, to name but a few. There were numerous cars parked in car parks
along the route, from which walkers, impervious to the rain now falling all
about, had set off to conquer the challenging landscape.
Just past the walking tracks up Mam Tor, we descended down into a
valley on roads almost as steep as those travelled through the Lake District
last year, roads that restricted the payload to “light cars” which those we
travelled last year should also have done.
Mam Tor is known as Castleton’s “Shivering Mountain": an important
archaeological monument. It is the site of two Bronze Age burial mounds dating
from 5000 to 3500 BC and a late Bronze Age village and hill fort. Excess water
in the alternating layers of soft shale and millstone grit has created a very
unstable structure. About 3600 years ago, Mam Tor began to move and at some
point a major landslide occurred. Much more recently, in 1979, the road was
finally closed because of subsistence. The landslip is still moving an average
of 9 cm every year and is likely to remain unstable for at least the next 1000
to 1500 years,
We soon arrived at Castleton, an absolutely delightful village
lying on the northern edge of the White Peak, centre of several caverns all
open for tourist business and lying in the shadow of the Peveril Castle, the
ruins still perched high on a premonitory of land accessible only by walking up
a steep footpath.
We found a Pay & Display parking area in the town, paid our
dues and headed firstly to the Information Centre which is also home to a
modest little museum. We enjoyed the exhibitions here very much and learned
more of the area than our guide books had offered.
Landscapes in the Peaks come in two forms; the brooding high
moorland peaks of Dark Peak, taking their name from the underlying grit-stone,
and the more forgiving southern limestone hills of the White Peak.
There’s been a village here since 1086 when the Normans built Peveril
Castle. Rocks and caverns have always been important to Castleton and in the 18th
and 19th centuries lead mining was the main industry here. Although the
mining ceased long ago, local people still dig and work Blue John, the name
from the French “Bleu et jeune”, wonderful coloured stone fashioned into jewellery
in Buxton and sold in every second store here in Castleton.
William Peveril built the castle on a natural defensive position
high above the valley. It served to strengthen Norman control over hunting and
valuable lead mining interests.
During the 13th century, documented repairs and additions
to the residential buildings in the castle’s inner baily indicate that it was
occasionally made ready for visits by the king and his large household of
soldiers, servants and guests. These visits were in fact very rare; King Henry
III, who reigned between 1216 and 1276, only visited once, yet he added a new
hall on the castle’s north side.
After the death of King Henry III, the castle and estate passed to
a succession of royal favourites, including the English Queens, Eleanor of
Castile and Isabella of France. In 1372, the Forest of the Peak became part of
the Duchy of Lancaster, under the influence of the King’s uncle, John of Gaunt.
Peveril Castle remained in use during the 15th century,
and its buildings were occasionally described as needing repairs. However, much
of the running of the estate, such as the holding of courts and the collecting
of rents, was now carried out elsewhere in Derbyshire.
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| View over Castleton |
Tourist interest was not piqued until after the publication of Sir
Walter Scott’s historical novel, “Peveril of the Peak”, in 1822, even though it
was not actually set here. The more recently popular pursuit of “rambling”
(such an English English” term!) or walking has brought tourists to the town
and the castle. In 1932, the castle was
placed in the guardianship of the Office of Works and in 1984, it passed to
English Heritage.
Had it not been an English Heritage administered attraction, we
may not have persevered in the rain, however, the heavier showers eased a
little, and we set off up the hill, duly rewarded with the amazing views over
the town and the surrounding countryside, all the way back to Mam Tor and the
horizon. It was quite wonderful, although I would have to say that if we had
paid the requested entry fee, and climbed up there in the rain, I might have
felt a little short changed.
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| The remains of Peveril Castle's keep |
We turned south and descended into a heavily wooded valley, again
turning west and soon arriving at Eyam, the second village on our list for the
day. Eyam, pronounced E’em, is famous for its very dark and sad past, events
that took place in 1665 – 1666, when the town was hit by plague which wiped out
about one third of the population. Of course, bubonic plague was more virulent
in places like London, but Eyam was special for the fact there was a
self-imposed quarantine and all the stories around that. Also unique is the
fact that details of all the deaths were documented and more recently these
have assisted in the research into the disease and the reason why some survive
and others do not.
On arrival we followed the National Trust signs and soon found
ourselves in Eyam Hall, an unspoilt example of a grit-stone Jacobean manor
house, built in 1672, years after the plague, and home to the Wright family for
nineteen consecutive generations. We wended our way through the rooms over two
floors and were duly impressed, but cognoscente that we had come to discover
the plague history of the village, and were becoming rather distracted.
Interestingly this property still belongs to the family, but has been leased to
the National Trust for ten years, three of these already past. The house has
never been home to this current family except during the time they restored it
to its original state. Apparently they live locally but their long term plans
for the house are known only to themselves. In the meantime, there is plenty of
interest in the house, not least, our own.
We joined a one and a half hour walking tour around the village in
the rain, our guide Chris most informative and entertaining, if such tragic
stories can be considered so. We stood in the shelter of trees and porches
wherever possible, however our party was really too large and by the time we
retreated to the car once more, we were rather bedraggled.
And so, in that state, we headed home, glad to sit down to a hot
dinner, comfort food thawed and heated in the microwave, after a good hot
shower. Hopefully the weather will be better tomorrow because we have much more
to explore in this part of the District.
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