19 September 2016 - Willow House Caravan Park, York

Again rain reigned the day in so far as we procrastinated, considering all options even to the point of spending the early afternoon in a city cinema. Heaven forbid that international travellers should waste their time with such frivolities! After such indecision, we headed off after 10am, following my original planned itinerary for the day; yet another grand tour up toward the moors. And happily the forecasted rain stayed away. 

Our initial route duplicated that taken yesterday afternoon but in reverse, up the B1363 toward Helmsley back through those charming villages so recently passed and admired, however this morning we travelled a little slower. I had had the impression yesterday afternoon that Chris was hell-bent on returning “home” and had made little effort to enjoy the landscape passing so very quickly. Today he remarked on various features than only confirmed that thought. Today he delighted in the ivy covered red brick cottages of Sutton-on-the Forest as I had the twice before when we passed through.

Arriving in Helmsley, we found our way to the Council car park adjacent to the castle and then spent too long discussing which timed ticket we should buy, disregarding out of hand the “up to one hour” but debating the “up to two”  or “three”. We settled on the lesser of the two and lived to regret it, because Helmsley, even for the tourist unwilling to be drawn into retail or café culture, two hours is far too short. 

Helmsley Castle is managed by English Heritage and is worth at least the hour and a half we spent there. Most of the stonework defences visible today were raised during the late 12^th and 13th centuries by Robert de Roos, one of the twenty five barons appointed to enforce the observance of the Magna Carta in 1215, and his descendants. 

The grandson of that first Robert de Roos, he who fought under King Edward III at the Battle of Crecy in France in 1346, increased the defensive capabilities of Espec’s castle. He added massive earthworks, a tall curtain wall and protruding round towers, the east tower, north and south barbicans and complex gatehouses.

Helmsley Castle

In 1644 the castle was besieged during the English Civil War, defended by a two hundred strong Royalist garrison loyal to King Charles I. From September to November, they held the castle against Parliamentary forces, who had arrived in Helmsley in June that year with seven hundred men on foot and three hundred on horseback. The three month siege that followed was the first time in five hundred years that the castle’s military defences had been tested. 

By the second week in November the castle garrison was running out of supplies. A rescue party sent from nearby Knaresborough with food was attached and captured. Seeing no alternative, the Royalists began to negotiate a respectable surrender, which was duly accepted.

But before these times of trouble, the castle went through years of peace and quiet grandeur. In 1508 Edmund de Roos, descendant of the earlier owners, died childless and the castle passed to his cousin Sir George Manners, who in turn left it to his son Thomas, Earl of Rutland in 1525. When his grandson, Edward, took possession of the castle, he made massive alterations between 1563 and 1587, converting it to a modern residence, a Tudor mansion. He, the 3^rd Earl of Rutland had made an advantageous marriage to Isobel Holcroft of Vale Royal, Cheshire, a fact that most likely inspired the redecoration of the interior of the castle rooms.

It was a further descendant and marriage that had it passed to George Villiers, 2^nd Duke of Buckingham, who owned the castle during the siege of 1644. 

After his death in 1687, it was sold to Charles Duncombe, he who we “met” at Rievaulx Temples and Terraces yesterday afternoon. Helmsley Castle ceased to be the residence for the Lord of Helmsley shortly before 1720 when they moved to their new baroque country house at Duncombe Park, and instead became a romantic artworks in their personal parkland. In the 19^th century, the inner courtyard was landscaped to create tennis courts. It also provided a backdrop for a pageant involving three thousand local people in medieval costume. In short, it had become a place of pleasure rather than a symbol of power.

In 1923, care of the castle passed to State guardianship under the Ministry of Works, who subsequently excavated and restored the castle. The site was cleared of accumulated soil and debris, ditches were emptied of rubble and conservation began on the castle buildings. Then in 1984, English Heritage took over care of the castle.

Views from Sutton bank

As has become our habit, we took advantage of the audio guides on offer and wandered about the ruins and through the restored areas, marvelling at the extent of the property, which far and away exceeded our expectations. Back in the car, near the end of our parking time, we ate our picnic lunch and weighed up whether we should pay for a further hour to explore the town itself or just head off. We elected for the latter, with the default plan to grab a free park should we come upon one as we passed through the town, however it was even busier than yesterday afternoon, a coachload of tourists having arrived. 

Instead we headed west along the A170 toward Thirsk, across the northern extreme of the Howardian Hills until we turned into the National Park Visitor Centre, on the top of Sutton Bank, reputedly with free entry.

How very naive we were to expect the experience to be absolutely free; parking is rarely so, and here the minimum charge is £2.50, for the privilege of walking the short distance to the “finest view in England”, relieving oneself in clean facilities or watching a short video explaining the limestone geology of the area. Needless to say The Chauffeur was not amused, and I was very happy we had not spent further change on parking in Helmsley.

In all fairness, the view was indeed worth stopping for; from the lookout point at 295 metres ASL the landscape stretches out 200 metres below on the valley floor. This escarpment is reminiscent of those we drove up to and looked out from in Australia, something one does not expect in England. On a clear day a huge swathe of northern England is visible, stretching all the way to the Pennines, thirty miles to the west, and despite the less than perfect day, we did enjoy excellent and extensive views today. To the extreme left one sees the Roulston Scar, high above the limestone cliffs that was once occupied by a massive Iron Age hill fort, dating back around 400 BC. It’s the largest of its kind in the north of England and one of the biggest in Britain. Today it is the sight of the Yorkshire Gliding Club. Further north, on Hood Hill, there are the remains of a castle built in 1086 by Robert de Stuteville, a henchman of William the Conqueror, to keep the rebellious locals in check.

Below us most northerly, lay one of only four natural lakes in Yorkshire. This one, Gormire Lake, is reputedly bottomless, believed to have been created when a huge earthquake swallowed up a town, leaving an immeasurably deep hole full of water. The chimneys and rooftops of the town can still sometimes be seen on a clear summer’s night, far below the shimmering surface. Of course none of this is supported by geological fact in the Visitor Centre.

The blackberries were quite delicious here on the escarpment but unfortunately they did nothing to cheer my husband up. But our next little expedition did at least take his mind off the frustrations of bureaucracy, and not only because the parking spot was devoid of parking metres.

Yesterday afternoon we had seen the White Horse high above the highway as we travelled north toward Thirsk. The Kilburn White Horse was cut into the crag in 1857 on the initiative of Thomas Taylor, of Kilburn, and is northern England’s only turf cut figure, 314 feet long and 228 feet high. In 1925 a restoration fund was subscribed by the readers of the Yorkshire Evening Post and the residue of £100 was invested to provide for the triennial grooming of the figure.

Kilburn's White Horse

According to the man in the National Park Visitor Centre, the working bee which undertakes the maintenance every three years clear off weeds, cut back encroaching vegetation and repaint the limestone base, because time naturally darkens the light colour, all with the aid of abseiling-like equipment. We walked up most of the 151 steps alongside the figure, and at such close quarters might have thought it simply to be a landslide had we not seen the whole “artwork” for ourselves from further afield.

From here I was keen that we should continue along the A170, because immediately after the Visitor Centre, the road drops the two hundred metres to the valley floor in a very short time indeed. 

Caravans are forbidden on this road, and so naturally we were keen to see for ourselves how very treacherous the stretch was. Chris decided that it would be perfectly suitable to travel towing a caravan had we electric brakes as in Australia, but here the brakes are over-riders, and an entirely different cup of tea.

We turned back along the base of the hill and drove through narrow country lanes and roads, stopping at Kilburn to photograph the Horse and to watch the progress of a glider before it disappeared out of sight. Kilburn was absolutely delightful, and well worth the detour; we continued on through Coxwald, Oulston and Easingwold, before joining the A19 back to York.

Again we patronised our local Tesco, topping up with fuel and with provisions. We will leave York tomorrow morning, with regret, having had a wonderful time, and with a will to return at some time in the future.

Our route south has been hotly debated this evening, The Chauffeur insisting we take the most major motorways, thus adding  unnecessary distance, in my opinion. However I did state that he should be master these last few weeks here in England unless I have a very real reason to suggest otherwise. We have much to organise as regards preparation and storing of our rig, and catching up with his family, including cousins whom we have totally ignored up to this point of our trip.